


A Dragon's Tale

by Moon_Called



Category: Oz (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Dragons, F/M, M/M, Magic, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-18
Updated: 2018-04-21
Packaged: 2019-04-24 12:32:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 13
Words: 31,482
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14355600
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moon_Called/pseuds/Moon_Called
Summary: This is a story set in an early medieval age with dragons, wizards, clerics, magic, and warriors. In other words, this is a fantasy story with all the bells and whistles, which isn't everyone's cupa tea. If it isn't yours, save yourself the bother.  Oh and ... Chris Keller is a dragon.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Some of you may wonder why in the world I've placed the cast of _Oz_ in a fantasy setting. Well, this work-in-progress was part of the _'AU Beecher/Keller Through the Ages'_ Story Challenge on the Twisted Sisterhood List Serv in 2000 or 2001 (has it really been that long???).
> 
> Some amazing stories were written for the _'AU Beecher/Keller Through the Ages'_ Story Challenge. Two stories immediately come to mind: _Heat_ , a wonderful story set in in the late American West written by Lora; and _Belle Epoque_ , written by Dargie, set in Turn of the Century Paris. Incredibly well-written fiction! 
> 
> **WARNINGS:** Please believe me when I say that my sex scenes are not for the faint of heart. I am very explicit, so if you're a blusher, consider yourself warned. 
> 
> **DISCLAIMERS:** All _Oz_ characters belong to Tom Fontana and HBO. I'm writing this story for fun, not profit. Brutus the cat, Forge Ironcaster, Pax, and Simon are my creations.
> 
>  **Final Note:** Over the years I've converted the earlier parts of _A Dragon's Tale_ from my ancient IBM system to Word on my iMac G4 to Word on my Dell desktop to Word on my current MacBook Pro laptop. Obviously, things were lost or changed through all the migrations and this story--still a work in progress--is so long, paragraphs may have merged over time. It's taken me a while to decide if I wanted to archive this story or not. Now that I have, I'll eventually read each chapter and edit out the mistakes. This story was not Beta'd. All mistakes are mine.

_"In the Book of Surra it is written that dragons are intelligent creatures with strong magical gifts and the ability to shape-change_  *(note to self...do further research on 'shape-changing' ability described in tome as "polymorph")  _into human form, which they do on occasion for amusement or intrigue. There are five basic groups of dragons: black, red, green, silver, and gold. Although many past historians have written that the colors of dragons often reflect their temperament and behavior, the Book of Surra disregards this opinion. The book suggests instead that dragons are much like humans in their disposition. For instance, black dragons are no more likely to be evil and green dragons no more prone to jealousy than silver or gold ones, and ‘all’ dragons are passionate and short-tempered, not just red ones. Likewise, dragons are extremely clannish_  *(note to self: by color?)  _and are notorious hoarders of treasure. But otherwise it appears that in character some are good, some are bad, and some are a mixture of the two. In fact, it is mentioned ..."_  The scratch of the quill was stopped by a knock at the door.  
  
Tobias sighed and returned the quill to its inkwell. He rubbed his face with his hands and then arched his back, stretching cramped muscles. A glance at the candle mark revealed that he had been at it for a little over three hours, but he wasn't tired at all. His fingers itched to pick up the quill and return to book and parchment.  
  
"Tobias?" A soft call, then the door opened a couple of inches to reveal Brother Augustus, a cleric of the Sacred Order of Surra. "I thought you might be hungry." The handsome black man entered the room and set a small clay jug, a wedge of cheese and some bread upon the desk. He turned and smiled at the seated man and then glanced over his shoulder at the half-filled parchment. "You, my friend, are a man possessed."  
  
Tobias blushed and flashed a crooked smile at his friend. "Perhaps you're right, Brother Augustus. I..." he paused and rubbed his hands against his thighs, "I  _do_  feel driven. I think it has something to do with the dreams."  
  
"Dreams?" Brother Augustus folded his arms across his chest and cocked his head to the side. "What kind of dreams does the son of a Baron have?" he asked. Then he leaned back against the stone wall. The deep folds of his brown robe flowed gently around his long legs with the motion. His eyes twinkled with mischief.  
  
Tobias glared at the cleric, annoyed by the rich humor in his friend's voice. "Dragons!" Tobias rose and began pacing in the tiny cell, waving his hands about as he spoke. "For months now I've dreamed of nothing but dragons! Big dragons, small dragons, dragons flying, dragons fighting, dragons..." He grabbed the window ledge as his legs began to buckle and buried his face in the soft sleeve of his borrowed robe. He absently caressed the sleeve with moist lips. "and dragons... mating.   _That's_  why father sent me here. He thinks … they all think … that I'm losing my mind."  
  
"Dragons?" In his anxiety, Tobias failed to notice the hard edge in the cleric's voice or the intense scrutiny in his narrowed eyes. "Tobias," he said sternly, "you've been here for two weeks and you haven't once mentioned dreaming about dragons!" He studied the pale, restless man a moment ... the shadows under his eyes ...   _This explains a lot_ , the cleric thought. "Now tell me," he sighed, "how many dragons and how often do you dream of them?"  
  
"Well," Tobias said as he turned to face the room. "Lately it's been one dragon in particular," he lowered his flushed face and studied his hands. "A large gold dragon with red-tinged under-wings and the deepest, dark-blue eyes I have ever seen," he paused, collapsed onto the chair, and then said in a whisper. "But, I haven't dreamed of him once since I've been here."   _And may the God of Light save me, but ‘not’ dreaming about him is ten times worse_ , he thought.  
  
Tobias thought back to the last dream and felt a hot flush move down his neck to his chest. He had not awaken to a sticky hand and a wet nightshirt since he was a very young man, before his sixteenth year when a buxom serving wench in their castle had become ... with his father's smug approval and encouragement ... a constant companion in his bed. His body began to respond to the memory. Then with a start he looked into the wise eyes of the cleric and realized with horror that the disciple of Surra had guessed his thoughts as well as his feelings.  
  
A smile returned to the cleric's mouth, but not his eyes. "And what does this dragon say to you in these dreams, Tobias?"  
  
The Baron's son was so emotionally distraught, he failed to notice the crawly, spider-web sensation of magic against his skin from the truth spell woven within the cleric's question. "He doesn't really ...  _say_  anything. It's hard to explain," he squirmed around on the chair, "You see, I don't actually  _hear_  him but I feel ... I seem to understand him completely ... that is, his meaning. It's not ... he doesn't ... I-I mean ..."  
  
"He makes you feel things you'd rather not? That you've never experienced before? And he makes your blood sing with wanton desire, too. Doesn't he, Tobias? Like you've never experienced with another person, not even your dead wife?"  
  
"Exactly!" Tobias exhaled his breath with a rush of relief and embarrassment. "I've never ... with a man before ... never!"  
  
The cleric's eyes narrowed again. "How do you know the dragon is male? Perhaps it's a female teasing your body for her own nefarious pleasure."  
  
Tobias looked at the cleric with wide, haunted eyes. "Oh, Brother Augustus. This dragon is ‘definitely’ male."  
  
_And so he is_ , Brother Augustus thought grimly ...  _So he is!_

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> See Chapter 1

Tobias rubbed his bottom lip and eyed the clay jug though he knew it contained water or milk, not wine. The confession to Brother Augustus had left him raw. By the light of Surra, he needed wine. The need to drink was still as powerful as his desire for the dragon, even after two weeks.   _Desire?_ He laughed. A high, brittle sound which made two clerics walking along the path beneath his window pause with concern.  
  
Desire.  
  
Tobias had desired many things during his twenty-eight years of life ... chief among them were his father's love and respect, to enter the wizard school in Galen, and to bring his wife and children back from the dead. Desire for the dragon was just the hilt of the blade of pain buried deep in his soul, and perhaps because of this, it was the most tangible. Yes, this sharp, sweet pain was a palpable thing that burned his blood and pulled the seed from his body like the release of a taut bowstring. He shuddered from the memory ... from the need.  
  
He walked over to the open window and inhaled fragrant air. The last beams of the evening sun set his shoulder length, strawberry-blond hair ablaze with vibrant red highlights. He smoothed his handsome locks with a shaky hand as the soft breeze dried the moisture on his upper lip and cooled his flushed skin. And when the sunlight finally dipped behind the mountain, Tobias looked up at the early evening sky with longing.  
  
*******  
  
Meanwhile, not so very far away a huge gold dragon with deep sapphire eyes crouched atop Mt. Auburn and looked down upon the monastery with longing. The human ...  _his_  human ... had been within the confines of that shielded place for two weeks. He opened his jaws and bellowed his outrage. It was time. Regardless of the promise ... it was time.  
  
His name in the dragon tongue was Christosantantas. The seasons had changed twelve hundred times since the day this dragon had hatched from the egg. Yet, as dragons grow, he had only just reached his prime. He was strong, bold, crafty, and dangerous. Male dragons considered him a formidable foe, and female dragons sought him as a potential mate. Among his impressive peers he was a being of mesmerizing charisma and a sensual nature; which made him equally attractive to males and females. He had enjoyed both sexes and had mated three times, four if you counted the last one twice, but his attraction to this human male was unlike anything he had ever experienced in his long, pleasurable life. He would not be denied.  
  
Christosantantas bellowed again and reared his powerful, sleek body to its full fifty feet. He stayed poised there for a moment, like a golden god, as the last rays of the sun played upon his scales in a brilliant kaleidoscope of light and color. He lowered his bulk with graceful ease and then ambled over to the mountain ledge. His under wings glowed like red embers as he glided over the edge and caught a swift current. Fueled by lust and determination, he soared straight up into the sky, twirling like a golden arrow as the last red light of the sun dipped below the horizon.


	3. Chapter 3

Brother Augustus walked the corridors of the monastery with long strides and a bowed head. Those who passed him moved quickly aside as he approached with his arms folded within the sleeves of his robe and the cowl pulled low over his face. Some of the younger clerics and healers watched in amazement as he navigated each step and corner without mishap, while others watched in concern; recognizing the vexation and anxiety in the aura of energy that surrounded him. These later observers, however, relaxed once they realized his destination.  
  
As always, a quiet voice spoke from behind the door before he knocked. "Please come in, Brother Augustus."  
  
He entered and found Abbot Rebadow seated in a comfortable chair by the fire. A student acolyte had placed a small table in front of him and was pouring tea into two cups. Brother Augustus walked over and sat in the opposite chair, a deep sigh escaping his lips as he picked up his cup and took a sip of the spicy brew. He sighed again and rolled the warm cup back and forth between his hands.  
  
"I take it your session with Tobias did not go well?" the Abbot ventured.  
  
The cleric flicked his eyes over to the disciple, and then back to the Abbot. Once the Abbot had excused the boy, the cleric waited until the door closed behind the lad before speaking. "It's worse than I thought and more than you feared." He sat the cup down and leaned forward with his elbows resting on the arms of the chair. He looked deep into the Abbot's eyes. "You know what I am, don't you?" It was more a statement than a question.  
  
"Yes."  
  
"And yet, you’ve allowed me to stay. Why?"  
  
The Abbot smiled. "You are a true cleric of Surra and this is an Abby in service to the God of Light. While you are away from your own Order, you need a home," he shrugged. "Where else would you be?"  
  
Brother Augustus rose and stood before the fire with a grim smile. "Where else indeed. I thank you." He remained quiet for several minutes, lost in the golden-red flames. “Tobias dreams of dragons." He did not turn at the sound the cup crashing against the table. "And there's more." Now he did turn. "The dreams of many eventually turned into a dream of one. It appears that Tobias has attracted ... well ... perhaps it would be better to say that he has been made most  _intimately_ aware of the interest of a very powerful dragon."  
  
Abbot Rebadow looked at the cleric with some trepidation. "But what does this mean?"  
  
"It means that I must leave Tobias in your care for a while, and that Lanon may soon have another 'special' visitor."  
  
"But what of the two brothers? Are they in danger?" The Abbot poured himself more tea and added a dash of brandy. "You augmented my shields with yours in order to prevent their detection, did you not? Is this dragon a threat to them?"  
  
"I'm not sure, Abbot ... he could be their bane or salvation." He ran a hand across his face. "But I will not let any harm come to them or Tobias. You have my word." He turned to leave but paused at the door long enough to say, "I haven’t always been a cleric of Surra, you know." And then he was gone.  
  
* * *  
  
The cleric stood for a while on the cliff with eyes closed in anticipation, in reverence. Flying was what he missed most while in human form ... The sheer freedom of spreading wings wide and gliding on a soft blanket of air thousands of feet above the land ... The tremendous feeling of power gained from soaring high into the clouds and hurling down from the heavens like a bright, deadly comet ... These were heady sensations. He felt somewhat giddy as he pulled the robe over his head and stood naked with arms stretched wide and head thrown back. He chortled, spoke a word of magic, and leapt off the cliff. There was a second or two of free-fall before the morphing was complete, and then Augustusantantas rose into the sky. The huge gold dragon beat his wings with joy, ignoring the slight discomfort of stretched muscles and tendons. He had been in human form for almost two years.  
  
He climbed steadily until he neared a bank of clouds several hundred feet above ground. He was just about to enter them when another dragon suddenly dropped from the cloud cover. The cleric instinctively rolled over and faced the intruder, sharp talons ready to attack.  
  
"I'm surprised at you, Augustus," the other dragon chided. "A cleric of Surra ready to attack a defenseless dragon. Whatever would Abbot Rebadow say?"  
  
A light of happiness and irritation warred in the cleric's dark amber eyes. "Don't deflect this, Chris. I'm very upset with you!"  
  
"The promise was made long ago."  
  
"But it  _was_  made!"  
  
"Augustus," he said in exasperation, "when I made that promise to you I never imagined that I would ever feel love for a human."  
  
"Love?" the cleric scoffed. "For you, love is synonymous with conquest."  
  
Christosantantas laughed. "Yes, in the past I have enjoyed the game. But you, cleric of Surra, who officiated at each of my unions, should be most aware of the fact that I  _have_  loved. Well," he said with a wry tone, "at least once ... er ... twice; though it was with the same dragon."  
  
"He’s not a pet, Christosantantas! What will you do with him once you've slaked your lust?"  
  
Again, the elder dragon laughed. "Slaked my lust? It seems to me that perhaps you haven't been 'slaked' enough!"  
  
A deep blush crept across the cleric's snout and settled just above his nostrils. "Your observation is duly noted,” the cleric sniffed, “but we aren’t talking about  _me_  at the moment, are we? Those dreams were driving Tobias insane. How can you expect me to believe that you actually do care about him?"  
  
"He was being driven insane by memories of his murdered wife and children as well as his father. That one has little love for his son. You visited the Baron's castle enough times to have seen this for yourself. I merely provided a necessary and, I might add, not altogether unpleasant distraction."  
  
"But you must not..."  
  
"Enough!" Chris roared, "Tobias is mine. You can rant and rave until you drop from the sky, but I will  _never_  give him up!"  
  
"Never?" the cleric whispered, his eyes clouded with doubt. And then they cleared. "I see."  
  
Chris watched the cleric's face as the frown of stubborn anger was replaced by a look of profound serenity. He scrutinized the other, suspicious of the sudden change. The two dragons hovered closer to each other. Cold sapphire eyes met warm amber ones. "Augustus, what are you keeping from me?"  
  
"Nothing that you won't find out for yourself in due time." Genuine pleasure gleamed in his eyes. "It's good to see you again, brother." And then, shyly, almost grudgingly, "I've missed you."  
  
"Now that wasn't so hard to say, was it?" Some of the ice left his eyes. "We share more than the 'Santantas' blood, Augustus. I could never betray or dishonor you; which is why I'm asking you to release me from my promise."  
  
"I'll release you on one condition."  
  
The sapphire eyes narrowed. "Name it."  
  
"I have extended my protection to ... uh ...' certain' members of our clan who  _may_  have wronged you. When you arrive in Lanon, I ask that you listen to them first before you act."  
  
Chris thought about this. "Would I be within my rights to act against them?"  
  
That pained look appeared again in the cleric's eyes. "Yes. According to dragon law and custom, you would be well within your rights to act. But there are extenuating circumstances." The look of anguish increased.  
  
"And if I am not swayed by these circumstances?"  
  
"Then ... then I will stand aside."  
  
_Liar!_  was the thought behind sapphire eyes. He looked at his brother and saw him as he once was hundreds of years before, with innocent amber eyes gazing imploringly at him in response to some fear. And just as he had done when they were hatchlings and lightening frightened Augustus, Chris rubbed his head against his brother's in comfort. He was rewarded with a deep thrum of contentment.  
  
**************************************  
  
Tobias walked through the small village of Lanon with the two brothers, Cyril and Ryan. Brother Augustus had introduced them when Tobias first arrived at the monastery and the three had soon settled into an easy friendship. There was something a little odd about Cyril, who seemed mildly retarded. But when he questioned Ryan about it all he would say was that Cyril had suffered a terrible blow to the head during a skirmish, and that he hadn't been the same since.  
  
Tobias was fascinated with the brothers. They were both warriors (Ryan was a warrior-mage) but there was something else about them that he just couldn't put his finger on, and he was determined to solve the mystery.  
  
As they walked, one of the monastery cats wove its way back and forth between their legs. All of the cats had loved Tobias instantly, and soon adopted Cyril and Ryan as well. Their constant companion, however, was a stout gray and orange tabby named Brutus, who was now rubbing against Cyril's legs with a series of playful 'purrrup's." Cyril laughed with delight each time the cat made the sound.  
  
When they reached the Inn, Brutus the cat nonchalantly entered the common room with them and jumped up on their table as soon as they sat down. The Inn was unusually crowded. After a serving wench took their orders (which included a saucer of milk and table scraps for Brutus), Tobias looked around the room with keen interest. He noticed many of Captain Glynn's soldiers in attendance; most of whom had a tankard of ale in one hand and at least one cheek of a shapely female ass in the other. Several soldiers stood or sat strategically around the room, nursing single glasses of wine or tankards of ale while keeping a vigilant eye on both the door and their comrades. Tobias wondered if they were expecting trouble.

A burst of laughter took his attention across the room to a table where the wizard Agamemnon Busmalis was entertaining a small group of people by juggling six tiny balls of fire. Tobias liked the eccentric man and was about to go enjoy the magic show when the door opened and Brother Augustus entered. Tobias waved him over to their table, but his smile disappeared at the serious look in the cleric's eyes. The two brothers noticed it as well and they began to question him with anxious voices the moment he sat down.

Brother Augustus said something to the brothers in a quiet, intense whisper that resulted in Ryan pulling Cyril to his feet and the cleric grabbing hold of his arm to pull him back into his seat. The two argued while Cyril looked as if he were about to cry. And just as others in the room began to notice the fracas at their table, the door opened and a cloaked, hooded figure entered the inn.  
  
All activity stopped as everyone looked over as the tall figure casually removed his cloak as if they did not exist. He wore a gold and ruby stud earring in his left ear and a fine gold chain around his neck, from which hung what appeared to be a gold and ruby tooth of some kind. He had short dark hair and features that would have been ordinary if they weren't so intense; especially the eyes. He was dressed in snug, red leather pants with a matching leather tunic, both of which appeared soft and supple from years of wear. Underneath the tunic he wore a black, long sleeve silk shirt. Around his trim waist he wore a black leather belt with a large ruby buckle, which accentuated his shoulders and drew attention to his hips and his well-formed legs. A pair of cuffed, knee-high black leather boots completed the outfit.  
  
If it were not for the items attached to his belt the stranger would have looked like any other noble or stylish courtier out for a spot of adventure. But a long sword with a gold and onyx hilt in a worn black leather scabbard hung at his right hip, a wicked looking swordbreaker dagger hung at his left hip in a very professional manner, and a mage pouch hung from a special snap just in front of the dagger. When the stranger removed his riding gloves and tucked them into his belt, everyone could see that he wore black leather studded wrist guards. This was not a noble or a fop ... this was a very dangerous man.  
  
The man moved, and Tobias found it difficult to breathe.   _Oh Sweet Lord of Light!_  he thought.   _How is it possible for a body to move like that?_  The man moved with power, grace, and attitude. He didn't walk, he flowed. Every muscle worked in concert, like those of a great cat stalking prey. Tobias couldn't take his eyes away from the gait of the man's hips ... then he couldn't look away from the man's dark blue eyes as he approached their table. The closer the man got, the more Tobias was affected by his energy. So much so that by the time the stranger reached their table, Tobias felt as if he and the man were sharing the same space. It was the most intimate thing that he had ever felt outside of sex. It made him a bit giddy, and more than a little randy. Somehow, it all felt very familiar.  
  
Brutus arched his back and hissed at the stranger. Without even looking at the feline, the stranger scooped it up in a large hand and tossed it to the floor. Brutus, a seasoned survivor, hissed one last time and then wisely scampered from the room.  
  
The brothers stood as the stranger finally looked at them. A brief flash of surprise crossed his face and then his eyes narrowed with suspicion and anger. He glared an accusation at Brother Augustus and then looked back at the two men, who were both pale and trembling. Then, to the amazement of all in the common room, Cyril and Ryan placed their right hand over their hearts and bowed low to the stranger.  
  
"If you'll excuse us, sir," Ryan said, "My brother and I have an early day tomorrow. Perhaps ... perhaps we'll have an opportunity for a longer visit before you leave?"  
  
"Oh, you can count on that," the stranger responded. Then he seated himself at the table and ignored the brothers as they left the room.  
  
Tobias was having a hard time keeping up. Brother Augustus and the stranger were talking, but he couldn't understand a word they said. "What language is that?"  
  
Both men paused and looked at him. Again, Tobias felt as if he should know this man, but he was sure they had never met. A moment later he was shocked when the stranger leaned forward, looked deep into his eyes and said, "It's good to see you again, Tobias."  
  
"I'm s-sorry. I can't seem to recall your name." Tobias stammered. He loosened his shirt at the neck and wiped his brow with his sleeve.  
  
The stranger smiled. "You may call me Chris."  
  
"What are you doing to him!" The cleric hissed.  
  
"Nothing. I told you, he’s mine ... and his body knows it."  
  
"Well ...  _do_  something!"  
  
"That might be a little hard to accomplish in a room full of curious humans," he laughed. "Besides which, Tobias is rather ... expressive."  
  
"How do you..." the cleric stopped at the other man's arched brow. "Oh, never mind." He threw his hands up in frustration. "Look, you're a mage. How hard could it be to cloak the two of you and just ... 'get on' with it?"  
  
Chris gave the cleric a confused look. "But what would be the fun in that?" he asked.  
  
_Humans?_  Tobias registered the word through a warm, fuzzy haze. And then he knew. "By everything that's Holy... it's  _you_!" He pushed himself away from the table and looked at the ... creature ... in astonishment. He was repulsed ... and then he wasn't repulsed ... he was intrigued ... and then he wasn't intrigued ... he was deeply aroused. He wanted to touch this magnificent being and he wanted to be touched in returned.   _What is wrong with me?! I've never felt so wanton. So needy._  
  
"He looks like he's about to have a coronary. You've got to  _do_  something, Christos!"  
  
"I believe that Tobias needs to be 'slaked.'" He gave the cleric a sly grin. "What do you think, Augustus?"  
  
"What do I think? I think you’re the most arrogant, irritating ..." He turned away in mid-rant and used his body to help shield them as best he could from curious eyes.  
  
Chris looked around the room and noticed that most of the people had returned to their own enjoyment and the wizard had returned to his juggling act. The dragon smiled. He moved to the seat next to Tobias and thanked the Great One that they had chosen a table in a fairly dark corner. He leaned close to Tobias's ear and whispered, "Breathe, “Sanmiko," and then he moved his left hand slowly up the man's thigh to his groin. At the same time, he cast a bit of magic at the wizard's fire-balls so that on the next pass, one of them flew out of the circle and landed on the backside of the innkeeper's wife ... who in turn backed into the Alderman ... who in turn backed into one of Captain Glynn's soldiers. Thus, as soon as a tankard of ale doused one butt, another one burst into flames.  
  
With his distraction in play, Chris unfastened Tobias's pants and grasped his cock. He groaned deep in his throat in sympathy with the small mews and moans escaping Tobias's inviting mouth. He buried his right hand in Tobias's soft hair and turned his head so that he could latch onto his mouth. And as his hand moved up and down the slick cock, Chris alternated between sucking on Tobias's tongue, then his lips, then his chin, then his neck ... and back again. Tobias uttered a loud moan each time the foreskin was pulled away from the head of his cock. Chris swirled his thumb in the moisture leaking from the tip and relentlessly caressed a spot underneath the crown on each 'downward' glide. Soon Tobias was thrusting his hips and slithering around on the chair. He watched Tobias closely. And when his body began to tense from the onslaught of his orgasm, Chris held the foreskin down and captured the sensitive head of the cock in his mouth. He licked at it ruthlessly until he felt the first spurt of seed hit his palate. Then he sucked as hard as he could until every drop had been extracted from the succulent cock and the last spasm of pleasure had been wrung from Tobias's beautiful body.  
  
"Chris," Tobias purred his name, and then promptly passed out.  


 


	4. Chapter 4

Tobias heard a word. It wasn't his name, yet his soul recognized the sound. The sound, accompanied by warm, moist air, came from an enticing heat source to his left. The sated man turned and snuggled against the incredible font of sensation and pleasure, and frowned when the word became more insistent, pulling him out of his wonderful state of bliss. He became aware of the voice speaking the 'word,' filled with gentle humor and fervent affection.  
  
"Sanmiko?"  
  
"Was that last bit really necessary? All you had to do was provide a little relief ... but,  _no_  ... the all mighty, all virile, all knowing one just had to satisfy his own ego!" Brother Augustus paused and gulped wine from his glass. "I don't understand. Why is he still out?" There was a sharp intake of breath. "You fastened his pants, didn't you?" he whispered.  
  
Chris stared at him for moment. "Augustus, you really ought to reconsider that celibacy decision of yours. You've obviously forgotten some of the finer nuances of good sex."  
  
The cleric sniffed. "I don't recall it taking this long to recover."  
  
"Yes, well. There's no accounting for  _bad_  sex now, is there?"  
  
Tobias giggled, and was rewarded with a warm nuzzle against the top of his head.

"Are you back with us, Sanmiko?" The rich, humorous voice vibrated against his ear.  
  
Tobias shivered. "Mmmmmmm..." he acknowledged. Then his eyes shot open as he remembered who and what he was cuddled against. He pushed himself back into the corner and looked around the room in panic. "It's you ... it really  _is_  you!"  
  
"Yes."  
  
Brother Augustus reached over to touch his hand. "Tobias..." he said, his voice sympathetic.  
  
"No ... don't!" Tobias pulled away and hugged his chest. "I thought you were my friend, but you're just like him, aren't you? Don't deny it ... I heard you talking!"  
  
"Tobias, please calm yourself and listen ..."  
  
"How could you trifle with me in this manner?" He glared at Chris, his face red with embarrassment. "What kind of ...  _monster_  are you?!" His voice shook with righteous indignation.  
  
Chris laughed. "Oh, dear," he wiped tears from his eyes. "Augustus, I've deflowered the Baron's son." He stood and cupped Tobias's chin with a firm grip. "Sanmiko, I have a small, comfortable house on the lakefront with a fair amount of land," he paused and brushed his thumb across the young man's cheek, "... and privacy."  
  
"And what is that to me?" Tobias was getting that 'breathless' feeling again, but he fought it with every once of willpower he possessed.  
  
"Sanmiko ..."  
  
"Don't call me that!"  
  
The pressure on his chin increased, and he was forced to look up into cold, blue eyes dark with intensity. "I understand,  _Sanmiko_ , that you will need some time to make sense of this. I have many faults, but impatience is not one of them. Take your time, Sanmiko ... and come to me when you're ready." He released his grip.  
  
"You'll have a long wait!" Tobias spat.  
  
"There is a saying among dragons,” Chris said, pulling on his gloves. “The longer the wait, the harder the ride.'" He smiled as Tobias blushed. "Don't wait too long, Sanmiko." Then he turned and left the room. Many eyes followed his progress and several hands fell to sword hilts as he passed. The soldiers, and constable Sean Murphy, sighed in relief when the door closed behind him.  
  
Brother Augustus and Tobias sat in silence, each delaying the inevitable questions and answers. All around them, people were talking about the uncanny accidents caused by the wizard's magic. A serving wench approached and deposited two glasses of wine on their table, then left to do her part in consoling the Innkeeper's wife. A stable hand had been dispatched to the monastery to beg for the services of a healer. Brutus sauntered back into the room and soon hopped into Tobias's lap, purring with pleasure when his human friend began to absently scratch behind his left ear.  
  
Brother Augustus cleared his throat. "Tobias, I didn't betray you. I had no idea that you even  _dreamed_  of dragons until three nights ago." he looked down at his hands. "And I certainly didn't know that you and my brother were involved in this manner."  
  
Tobias studied his wine. "What does it mean?"  
  
"What?"  
  
"You know," he said with a blush, "... that word. What does it mean?"  
  
Augustus smiled. "Sanmiko? Oh, let me see. The closest I can come to it in your language is 'dear heart' or ‘sweetheart.'"  
  
Tobias took a sip of wine. "This is so incredible ... so hard to believe." He looked up and stared directly into the cleric's eyes. "Cyril and Ryan, they're like you, too?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Then, I don't understand. Why were they so frightened?"  
  
The cleric sighed. "I'm sorry, Tobias. It is not my place to tell you."


	5. Chapter 5

"Cyril, calm down!" Ryan snapped. His mind whirled as the last tingling surge of adrenalin from the earlier encounter with Christosantantas subsided.  
  
"But he was really, really, mad! I'm scared, Ryan ..."  
  
"You heard what Augustus said, didn't you? He promised to listen."  
  
Ryansantantas led them along the outer road that hugged the fifteen foot town wall. Alternating their route back to the monastery each night was a tiresome, yet necessary, precaution. Otherwise, the narrow streets of Lanon would be littered with the bodies of rogues, cut throats, and purse thieves who plied their trade under the cloak of night. The dragon was often amused by this paradox. It seemed implausible that such an industrious network of scoundrels could thrive so in the very shadow of the Monastery of Lanon, considered one of the most sacred sanctuaries of Surra in all the world of Galen; but so it did. And it had become an integral thread in the fabric of Lanon society. Political intrigue and hostilities flourished between the Merchant Guild houses of Lanon and the outlying Barons. Sometimes, an ornate dagger in the back was the final negotiating tool.  
  
Instinct pulled Ryan away from his thoughts. They were being followed. The dragon cursed himself for forgetting, once again, that he could no longer count on his brother to watch his back when his mind (or his body) was otherwise occupied. Ryan listened to Cyril's nervous prattle while looking for a suitable place to ambush their shadow.  
  
The road curved just before a steady incline which lead to the monastery gate. Ryan pulled Cyril beside him against the back of a Guild warehouse and waited. Soon a figure rounded the bend and paused when he didn't see the brothers treading up the road. Ryan heard the slight swish of a blade leaving a well-oiled scabbard. The sound was so whisper-quiet that a human would have missed it entirely. He leaned down and pulled an eight inch thrusting dagger from a leather sheath in his right boot. So intent was he upon the shadow from the left that he missed a stealthy movement from the right. He heard Cyril pull his own blade just as a figure rounded the corner with a long knife held before him.  
  
Ryan heard Cyril gasp, then he gasped himself in surprise as a bit of faerie light revealed the shadow's identity. A highland elf stood before him in leaf-green tights and a hooded tunic of a deeper green and brown. Bright green eyes blazed out at him from an exquisite face. He knew this elf.   _Pax_  he recalled. Still, he didn't lower his dagger.  
  
Then a gravelly voice spoke from the right, "Put it o'way, lad." A stout dwarf stepped into the faerie light next to the elf. "Sure n' close your mouth before you swallow a bug, ya daft lizard. 'Himself' would like a word wit' yew an' your brother."  
  
"Forge! Ryan, it's Forge!" Cyril crowed with glee. "Did you bring any pretty rocks with you? I remember the rocks ... I forget some things, but I remember the pretty rocks!"  
  
Forge Ironcaster and Pax exchanged a glance and then looked at Ryan. "It's a long story," he said with a shrug.  
  
"Knowin' ye both from the egg, me thinkin's tis yourself behind whatever ails the lad," the dwarf grumbled. Forge pulled an amulet from beneath his wool shirt and rubbed a ruby in the center. Soon magic hummed around them, and between one blink of an eye and the next they were standing on the grounds of the dragon's estate.  
  
**************************************  
  
"Tobias, I must go," the cleric said as a sudden look of anxiety crossed his face. "Cyril and Ryan need me." He rose from his chair and crossed the floor of the common room with quick strides.  
  
"Brother Augustus, wait!" Tobias rushed after him, Brutus clutched in his arms. "What's wrong? Where are you going?"  
  
"I'm sorry Tobias, I must hurry," he said as he opened the door and stepped outside the Inn.  
  
"It's  _him_ , isn't it?" he clutched Brutus tighter. "You're going to see Chris."  
  
The cleric was no longer listening. He was already pulling energy from the ground and funneling it up through his conduit. He pictured a place in his mind--a certain house on the lakefront--and focused the energy there along with an image of himself. As magic swirled around the cleric he felt an anomaly in his energy field. Thus, he was not at all surprised to find Tobias and Brutus at his side when they arrived.  
  
Augustus looked at the Baron's son with a raised eye brow. "It's not what you think," the young man said defensively. A deep blush covered his face and neck. "Cyril and Ryan are my friends. I just ... I want to do what I can for them."  
  
Tobias was saved from further embarrassment when a glimmer of light began to glow not ten feet from where he and the cleric stood. Brutus scurried up Tobias's shoulder and tangled his claws in wool and hair at the back of the young man's neck. His wide, frenzied eyes peeped through silky curls and darted around every fluid motion within the growing globe of light. Both Tobias and the cat were surprised when the light receded and revealed not only their two friends, but a dwarf and a highland elf as well.  
  
Forge returned the amulet beneath his shirt and stepped in front of Augustus. He gave the cleric a quick bob of his head. "Ocht," he sighed, "tis glad I am that yer worship's here. Sure'n sometha's crawled up Himself's arse and laid an egg." He cast a steely glance at Ryan then nodded his head at Tobias. "Tis more 'an just risin' sap for the lad here's me thinkin'."  
  
Tobias opened his mouth to protest but Augustus moved smoothly in front of him. "Friends, allow me to introduce Tobias, son of the Baron of Beechershire." The dwarf and elf bowed. "Tobias, this is Forge Ironcaster and Pax. Chris and I have known them both for many years."    
  
Tobias started to bow, but Brutus was having none of it and made his point by gripping the young man's shoulder with his claws. Pax moved forward and untangled the feline while cooing softly in a melodic language. The elf fixed Tobias with a deep, penetrating stare. Then he turned and followed the others.  
  
Tobias looked around the grounds as the small group made their way across a neatly trimmed lawn roughly four furlongs wide. He looked up and saw that they were about two furlongs away from the entrance of an impressive stone manor.   _If this is his idea of 'small and comfortable,' I dread to see his notion of 'opulent'_ , he thought. The estate was bordered on the right by a forest of old trees, stately giants stretching into the night sky above a thick mantle of darkness. The estate was bordered on the left by Lake Cadmea, which curved to the right behind the house and then met the forest along the coast. The coast also curved to the left for about three leagues, creating a private bay. His eyes followed the fey shimmer of pale moonlight on the dark surface of the water out to the main body of the lake. The manor itself sat upon a slight swell of land that appeared to slope gently down to the lake beyond.   _Privacy Indeed_ , he mused.    
  
A breeze from behind him tousled his hair and the heady fragrance of orchard blossoms tickled his nose. Tobias turned and noticed a wide path leading beneath a canopy of branches laden with ripe winter berries. A faint sound of bleating caught his ear. He turned again and noticed the thatched roof of an outbuilding just cresting the rise of land to the right of the house.  
  
When Tobias turned back around he was surprised to find that they had reached the stone-paved path leading to the front entrance of the house. He was intrigued by a mason mark etched into several stones along the path. And when he looked up, he discovered the same mark in two stones on either side of a larger one set in the center of the archway over the door. The larger stone contained a graceful rune which even he recognized as a magician's sigil. He frowned as he scrutinized the symbol. Something about the mark tugged at his memory. He sighed and was immediately aware of the dwarf looking at him out of the corner of his eye.  
  
"Dew ye ken the sigil, lad?" The dwarf asked. A curious, expectant light gleamed in his eyes. He put a hand on Tobias's arm and they turned and faced each other.  
  
"No," Tobias replied with a shake of his head. Then he frowned again. The sigil flared molten gold for a moment and then dimmed. A memory surfaced in his mind with the flare, but it quickly receded. He blinked at the dwarf a couple of times and then looked down at the path. "I was ..." he cleared his throat, "I was just wondering about this mason's glyph. I don't recognize it, but it must belong to the Masons' Guild in Lanon."  
  
"Ocht!" Forge spat on the ground. "That mark's me own! An' there's no need to be insultin' a body by placin' it along side o' green amateurs!" He stomped along the path with Tobias quick at his heels sputtering apologies at his back. "Bah!" The insulted dwarf raised a hand without looking around and waved away each uttered plea, all the while muttering into his beard about the numerous shortcomings of humans and their ancestors.  
  
Tobias was so involved in trying to regain the dwarf's favor that he didn't realize the door had opened until he once again felt a startling energy. The intense feeling ignited his libido and made it nearly impossible to breathe. He turned and looked into sapphire eyes that first regarded him with mild surprise and then relaxed into ardent pleasure.

Chris leaned against the door frame and cocked his left hip out to the side in what Tobias now realized was a habitual gesture. The red leather tunic was gone and the black silk shirt was unlaced but still tucked inside of those snug leather pants.

The Baron's son was captivated by the sight of a prominent bulge at the apex of the dragon's groin, accentuated by long legs, which were poised in a provocative stance. Tobias was drowning in the dragon's presence ... in that torturous, sweet energy which seemed to stroke him sensually both inside and out. Spots swam before his eyes. He heard the cleric's anxious voice from a distance through a roaring in his ears and then he heard ‘the’ voice issue a stern command.  
  
"Breathe, Tobias."  
  
Tobias collapsed to his knees and inhaled deep gulps of air. He reached an arm out for someone to help him up. But no one moved. He looked up in bewilderment and saw that they all watched him expectantly, much as the dwarf had watched him earlier on the path. He struggled to his feet and looked at Christosantantas. The dragon no longer leaned against the door and was perhaps watching him more keenly than the others. Tobias walked slowly forward, acutely conscious of the eyes upon him. He glanced up at the sigil in the archway above the door. Again his mind shifted and he felt as if he was missing or not recalling something very important. As he crossed over the threshold he felt the sigil flare into life. It burned at his soul for an eternal moment and then it became a soothing balm.

 


	6. Chapter 6

Tobias studied the vaulted ceiling of the library as the conversation droned on around him. He was fascinated by the geometric design and couldn't discern if the pattern was in the shape of a fan or the shape of a wing. He tilted his head from left to right until he gave up the effort and decided that the pattern was a combination of both. He glanced around the well-appointed room and admired the large stained-glass windows on the south and west walls. 

The window on the south wall displayed a fight sequence between two warriors—one in gold-trimmed red armor and one in white—with swords and wicked looking sword-breaker daggers. The scene on the final pane clearly showed that the warrior in the gold and red armor was victorious. The window on the west wall depicted fight scenes between a gold dragon and four other dragons. In the first pane the gold dragon fought a green dragon, with bolts of lightening shooting from his open maw. In the second pane the gold dragon fought a black dragon, which spewed yellow acid in rage. In the third pane the gold dragon fought a red dragon, with flames blasting from its maw. And in the final pane the gold dragon fought a silver dragon. This scene was the most violent of the four, but the gold dragon was the obvious victor. He stood upon the bleeding, gaping chest of the silver and held the vanquished dragon's heart triumphantly in sharp claws.  
  
Tobias was pulled away from the intriguing stained-glass windows by an increased undercurrent of tension in the room. He was seated between Cyril and Ryan on a bright red couch and the others were scattered around the library.  
  
Pax sat quietly in a corner with a glass of red wine and fruit. Forge sat in a chair near the fire with a tankard of ale and a platter laden with mutton, bread and cheese. Brutus dozed on a soft rug in front of the fire. Augustus, who had heard the full story weeks before, sat with a glass of wine in a chair opposite the dwarf. And Chris stood with one hand on the mantle and his intense eyes on Ryan. The younger dragon was recounting how he and Cyril had come to be captured by silvers in the Crag Mountains. Tobias had obviously missed the beginning of the tale.   _Was I asleep?_  he wondered, and then focused in on Ryan's voice and he continued the tale.  
  
"This silver is a sadist. He raped Cyril and then promised to kill him if I didn't ... if I didn't give him a portion of the 'Santantas' treasure. He was very specific. I was to search your hoard for..."  
  
" _My_  hoard?"  
  
"Father..."  
  
" _Father?_ " Tobias squeaked.  
  
"... I had no choice."  
  
"You plundered one of  _my_  hoards because you were afraid of a silver?" Chris grated through clinched teeth. He took a step forward, fire sparking deep in his sapphire eyes.  
  
"No!" Ryan snapped, with fire of his own, "I did it to save the life of  _my_  brother,  _your_  son!"  
  
Augustus stood and placed himself between the two volatile dragons, his palms raised in a placating gesture. He turned and walked over to his brother and gently placed a hand behind his neck. He pulled him forward until their foreheads touched. "Chris, you're not going to like what you hear. But please, you must listen." Chris looked into the cleric's eyes and then jerked away and began pacing furiously up and down the length of the chamber. Flames erupted up the chimney at each pass.  
  
Tobias had seen enough. "Oh, for Surra's sake,  _sit_  down!" He stomped over to the angry dragon and planted himself before him, hands on his hips. He heard a loud guffaw behind him that sounded like boulders rolling down a gravel hill.  
  
"Aye, the Laird has found himself a mate!" the dwarf wheezed between laughs. "Give 'em the birch switch, lad! Sure'n the tyrant needs it."  
  
"Hold your tongue, you old fool," Pax said, a delicate hand hiding a smile of his own.  
  
*********************************************  
  
Chris stormed out the double doors, through the garden, and toward the lake beyond. Tobias was close on his heels, ducking as items of clothing came flying over the dragon's head. By the time they reached the lake, Chris was nude. Tobias caught his breath as the pale new moon cast shadows along the planes of the dragon's magnificent body.  
  
Chris turned and narrowed his eyes. Anger radiated from him in waves. "You and I are not mated yet, Tobias. What I do and how I act is still very much my own business."  
  
"Yes, well. As intriguing as that prospect is," Tobias replied, his voice dripping with sarcasm, "that is not the issue here. You were an ass in there!"  
  
"Stay out of this Tobias ... you don't understand what's going on," Chris warned, a hint of steel in his voice.  
  
Tobias opened his mouth to respond but was distracted by the growing erection between the dragon’s powerful legs.  
  
Chris licked his lips and cocked a hip, enjoying the attention. "Look, I need to cool my blood a bit." He paused and stroked the tips of his right hand up and down his chest. He grinned when the young man's eyes followed the motion. "I'm going in for a swim. Now, you can either stand there and gawk at me ..."  
  
"I am  _not_  gawking!"  
  
"... or, you can join me," he said, then he turned and waded into the lake. A moment later he heard a soft splash and turned to see Tobias swimming towards him. Chris pulled the young man into his arms and kissed him deeply. He released his mouth and sucked his neck just below his left ear. "Sanmiko,  _please_ ," his voice was raw with desire.  
  
"You said you'd wait until I came to you," Tobias gasped, and then clung to the sturdy frame as he was kissed breathless once again. All arguments fled when he felt a hand encircle his cock; which was getting hard despite the cold water.  
  
Chris chuckled, his husky voice warm against Tobias's ear. "You  _did_  come to me."  
  
Tobias felt warm and comfortable ... cozy. The water, which moments before had caused his teeth to chatter, was now lulling as it lapped at his skin. But the tepid water was cooler than the hand that stroked up and down his spine. He shivered and wrapped his legs around Chris's waist. He suddenly realized that the water was no longer moving against his body, but rather away from it in rapid waves. He looked into the dragon's eyes and the intensity he saw there alarmed him. Those cool sapphire orbs were now pools of blue lava. And his body—Sweet Surra! Chris's body was burning with a fever and he could feel power,  _immense_  red-hot power churning beneath the surface of Chris's composed exterior. 

Tobias stared at the dragon in wide-eyed wonder as ripples of energy surged all around him ... through him. Chris's skin glowed as he spoke words of magic that Tobias felt in the air, in the water, and on his skin. The world ... shifted ... and then they were in Chris's bedchamber. The dragon gestured and candles flared into life, casting a soft glow around the chamber... and onto the huge bed. Tobias pulled away and backed against one of the walls.  
  
Chris toweled the water from his body and eyed the young man hungrily. His eyes were caught by each glistening drop of water on Tobias's creamy skin, especially those clinging to his chest. Chris licked his lips. He threw the cloth away and swaggered across the room. He placed his hands on either side of Tobias's head and leaned against the nervous man. They both groaned from the tingling friction as their bodies engaged in a slow, sensuous glide. Chris reached out with his right hand and traced trembling lips with trembling fingers. Both of them were breathing hard. Tobias felt his skin burn wherever those skillful fingers touched him. He gulped air and tried to speak, but as soon as he opened his mouth Chris plunged his tongue inside.  
  
Chris was ravenous. He wrapped his hands in those marvelous curls and held Tobias's head still while he plundered his mouth. He finally left his mouth and moved down to his neck, where he left several marks before moving down, at last, to those enticing, nipples. He growled and attacked first the left nipple and then the right. The room was filled with loud, desperate moans as they tried to touch every inch of each other. Chris's lips traveled a slow path back up Tobias's chest.  
  
"I've never been with a man before," Tobias gasped.  
  
Chris chuckled deep in his chest, then he guided the young man's hand to his heavy cock. Intense sapphire eyes burned into pale blue ones as Tobias's hand touched another cock for the first time. Tobias tried to look away but Chris wouldn't let him. He humped the hand and whispered instructions against the young man's lips. "Oh, yes! Just like that... swirl your thumb around the head more ... Ohhhhh, yessss ... no, hold it tighter...." He nearly screamed in frustration when Tobias pulled his hand away and slid out from under him. The younger man's eyes flashed with anger as he moved away.  
  
"How many?"  
  
"How many what?" Chris stalked him around the room. His body ached from the need to take Tobias.  
  
Tobias stepped over a low table, and Chris followed. "How many men have you been with? You obviously have plenty of experience!" He climbed over the couch, and Chris followed.  
  
"None of them mattered, Sanmiko." He made a grab for Tobias as he skirted around a chair, but the younger man moved out of reach.  
  
"How do I know that? How can I be sure that this isn't some cruel game you play whenever you're bored?" Tobias climbed across the bed, and Chris followed. He made a grab for one of the young man's ankles, but he missed his mark.  
  
The dragon trembled ... this 'chase' was testing the limits of his patience. "You forget my nature, Sanmiko. Remember what I said about the perils of a ‘long wait?'" He smiled when he saw Tobias's legs buckle. He pounced on the younger man and pinned him to the floor. "Well, this little tease of yours has only served to further enflame my passion." To prove his point, he ground his pelvis against the younger man's. He shuddered as Tobias moaned against his tongue.  
  
Tobias wasn't nervous any longer. He had never felt more alive. When at last the dragon led him over to the huge bed he gave in to the uncontrollable desire to touch and be touched. He pushed Chris over and straddled his hips. He ran his hands up and down the well-defined chest and felt as if he was caressed wherever  _his_  hand caressed. The pleasure was nearly unbearable. Chris was purring ... in fact, the longer Tobias rubbed and petted the more the purr became a loud thrum.  
  
The dragon vibrated with pleasure. His arms were spread wide atop pillows on either side of his head, and his eyes were slits, hooded with desire. He reached a hand over to a stand by the bed and dipped his fingers into a pot of oil. He pulled Tobias forward and kissed him while his oil-slicked fingers teased the furrow between the young man's buttocks. He cupped and massaged the firm flesh and then groaned when Tobias began to grind against him. One finger danced around and around the tiny opening, making Tobias moan. His face was hot with embarrassment as Chris explored that private place. First one finger, then another slipped inside, preparing the way. Another dip of fingers and Tobias's cock was oiled as well. A rhythm was established and soon the fingers in his ass and the hand on his cock moved in concert.  
  
Tobias was a raw nerve of pulsating sensation. The pleasure Chris's hand had given him in the Inn was nothing compared to this intense journey. He screamed as every sensitive spot on his cock was stroked and squeezed until he felt the tension swirl deep inside. Tobias was pulled down against Chris's broad, moist chest. He moved wantonly against the hot, slippery body as he humped the marvelous hand that brought him closer and closer to the edge. Strong hands pulled at him and he found himself straddling wide shoulders as Chris's wet mouth swallowed his throbbing cock. Tobias leaned his head against the wall and screamed in agonizing relief with each pulse of cum the dragon coaxed out of him with his talented tongue and wicked suction. He collapsed in a boneless heap and was gathered into strong arms. He was held, he was caressed, and he was loved. Tobias felt himself slipping away as he hummed with content.   _I will not fall asleep ... I will not fall asleep ... I will n ..._  
  
"Sanmiko, wake up!" The voice was urgent and filled with passion. He felt the hot length of a heavy cock against his stomach and the suction of a persistent mouth against his neck. His legs were lifted and pushed against his chest and he felt the slick head of Chris's cock at his anus. The dragon paused and looked deep into his eyes. "You are mine," he said, and then he eased his cock inside with infinite restraint until he could go no further. A deep moan thrummed low in his throat as Tobias gripped his cock and massaged it with his internal muscles. Then time slowed for them both as one took, one surrendered, and both staked a claim on the other's soul.


	7. Chapter 7

The others watched Tobias storm out behind Christosantantas with varying degrees of interest. The elf in particular displayed a look of keen speculation. He settled himself more comfortably in his chair and gave his wine a nod of approval after a tentative sip. He took another sip and eyed the cleric over the rim of the crystal goblet.  
  
"It appears that your assumptions were correct," the elf said. "Tobias is indeed a draoi. Any remaining doubt I had disappeared once I saw that he was able to pass through your brother's sigil shield." He took another sip from the goblet and then rolled it back and forth between his graceful hands. "And I take it that he is the reason you have remained in human form for so long?"  
  
The cleric sighed. "Yes, he is. Our paths first crossed about ten years ago during what I thought would be a two-week visit to Lanon. Abbot Rebadow had just approved my petition to study in the monastery's library when there was a knock at the outer door, and the Baron of Beechershire and his retinue were admitted. The Baron had finally decided upon a bride for his son and wished to discuss the marriage arrangements with the Abbot. After our introductions were made the Baron introduced me to his eighteen- year-old son. I didn't know at the time exactly what Tobias was, and I certainly never imagined him a draoi, but it was obvious that 'someone' had taken great pains to shield him."  
  
Ryan sat forward on the edge of the couch. His deep emerald eyes were intense and alert. "When did you first suspect that Tobias was a draoi?" he asked.  
  
Not surprisingly," Augustus said with a wry smile, "it was Chris who first figured it out." The cleric paused and walked over to an ornate cabinet and poured a glass of wine.  
  
"Father? But I thought that he hadn't visited Lanon since he and Forge built this manor. When was it?" Ryan looked at the dwarf for confirmation, "One... no, two hundred years ago."  
  
The cleric waved his hand in the air. "When I hadn't returned home within a year your father became curious and sought me out. And once he learned why I stayed in Lanon, that there was a young human here with unspecified shielded powers, he decided to stay for a while himself. He roamed the mountains in his natural state..."  
  
"...an' buggered sheep!" Forge chortled.  
  
Augustus and Ryan shared a grin. "No ... at least I hope not," the cleric said. "But we did go up into the Schrand Pass whenever I could get away and had great sport chasing elk and mountain goats. As we basked in the sun on a cliff talking one day after our meal, Chris suddenly turned and looked off into the distance. About twenty miles away down the sheer slope of the Pass a lone figure had just entered the valley. It was Tobias. And he seemed to be looking around in agitation as if he was searching for something.  
  
Dragon-sight being what it is, we had no trouble at all seeing him. But I was astonished when Tobias turned and looked directly up at the place where we sat on the cliff as if he could sense us. Of course we had cloaked as soon as we noticed him, but that didn't seem to thwart him at all. After a few minutes Chris flew about a half a mile further down the cliff ledge and Tobias followed his movement unerringly with his eyes. Chris did this maneuver several times with the same results, and I tried it twice with no success. He finally looked at me and mind-spoke,  _”draoi!"_  Augustus paused and walked over to the fireplace and stared into the dancing flames as if he were looking into the past. "Christos was quite smug about it all, as I recall. It was then that I noticed the lust in his eyes and made him promise to leave,  _and_  to leave Tobias alone...at least until the young man had realized his potential and was able to accept Chris, or not, as an equal."  
  
"Well," the elf said with a smile, "so much for the promise."  
  
Cyril rubbed Brutus's stomach. "Uncle Augie, is father angry with Tobias like he is with me and Ryan?"  
  
The others smiled and looked away. "No, little brother," Ryan replied. "As a matter of fact, I think that father might ask Tobias to be our medjey."  
  
"Really?" Cyril smiled. "Good! I like Tobias a lot! And Brutus likes him too, don't you Brutus?" The cat gave Cyril a lazy stare and then meowed in agreement.  
  
"I, too, like this human," Pax concurred. "Though he seems to have quite a temper," he added with a smile.  
  
"Aye, Himself will be after havin' a rare time o' it with tha' wee lad's me thinkin'," Forge said good naturedly around a mouth full of mutton. "Tis full o' fire he is."  
  
Ryan snorted and licked his bottom lip. "I'd venture to say 'tis full o' father he is' right about now."  
  
*************************************************  
  
Chris lay on his left side with his head propped on his hand and watched Tobias sleep. He moved a stray lock of reddish-blond hair away from the younger man's smooth features. His fingers lingered.  He gently traced the delicate bones in Tobias's handsome face, then the silky kiss-bruised lips. He smiled when a soft snore issued forth from the young man’s inviting mouth. The dragon leaned down and licked first the top lip and then the bottom one before slipping his tongue between the two and exploring Tobias's mouth. Tobias moaned and curled towards him in his sleep. The dragon groaned low in his throat and clutched Tobias possessively as long legs intertwined with his and the younger man began to move against him with a sensual rhythm. He deepened the kiss as the spark of contact threatened to ignite his passion anew. He recalled their recent coupling and his body quivered with the memory. Never before had he experienced a sweeter ride. Not even with Bonisantantas, the mother of his children, whom he had truly loved.  
  
Chris turned over onto his back and pulled Tobias with him, arching up in pleasure as the younger man's now erect cock collided with his own.   _By the light of the Bright One, I know he *must* be sore...but if he doesn't stop that, I'm going to take him again_ , the dragon thought. Then he kissed Tobias's forehead and whispered gentle words in an attempt to soothe him back into slumber. But Tobias, now more than half awake, was having none of it. His heavy-lidded eyes were full of lust and mischief. He braced his hands on the dragon's broad shoulders and raised his head. As he moved, his hair fanned out across the dragon's chest. Chris shuddered as the soft, silky texture of it teased his skin.  
  
"Sanmiko," he said with an effort.  
  
"Hmmmmm?" Tobias all but purred as he lay back down against the dragon's chest and nuzzled his neck. He rubbed his hands up and down strong arms and then slid them between their bodies and began to pinch and pull at Chris's nipples.  
  
"Sanmiko ... we shouldn't ... it's too soon ... ahhhhh ... TOBIAS!" he said through a sharp inhale of breath as Tobias licked his right nipple and then sucked it into his mouth. The younger man adjusted his body so that the Dragon's thick cock was nestled between the cheeks of his ass. He squeezed his ass cheeks together and began to grind his own cock against Chris's firm stomach, creating an incredible friction for them both. Their mouths met and they moaned around thrusting, sliding tongues. And when Tobias adjusted his body further so that his ass cheeks squeezed the slick crown instead of the entire cock, Christosantantas lost the tenuous hold on his restraint ... and took him.  
  
***************************************************  
  
Forge choked and snorted ale out of his nose. The others laughed while he sputtered and wiped the brew from his beard. He glared for a moment and then lowered his head and looked askew at Ryan. "Sure'n yew're a fine one to speak laddie, wit yerself alwas tryin' ta dip tha' wick o' yers inta whatever honey pot's available."  
  
Ryan slouched back against the couch. "Well, what can I say?" he laughed. "I'm my father's son."  
  
"Ocht! Now  _tha's_  the truth o' it from yer lips to Surra's ears!"  
  
Augustus shook his head at their antics and leaned forward with his arms on his knees. "Now that you've met Tobias, what will you tell the Elvin Council?" he asked Pax.  
  
"I will tell them that an untrained human draoi is under the care and protection of the House of Santantas," he replied. "That should be enough."  
  
Augustus bowed his head at the high praise and compliment the elf paid his family. "There is also the matter of his parentage to consider." He sat back and rubbed his chin. "He's obviously not the Baron's son ... and that in itself explains a lot."  
  
"How so?"  
  
"Well for one thing, the disdain the Baron feels and shows towards Tobias has always puzzled me. And another thing is the bizarre manner in which Tobias's wife and children were murdered."  
  
"Exactly how were they murdered?" Ryan asked. "Decorum prevents one from asking Tobias directly, and whenever any of the citizens of Lanon are asked they cross themselves and hurry away. All that anyone ‘will’ say is that their bodies were found near the edge of the forest on the Baron's estate."  
  
Augustus rubbed his face with his hands. "Genevieve had decided to surprise Tobias with a family picnic upon his return from Telford, a city about a fortnight's journey to the northwest of Lanon. Her plan had been to meet him at the edge of the forest that borders the Baron's estate. As it happened to chance, a small vanguard of retainers arrived that fateful morning with news of Tobias's impending return."  
  
"Then, Tobias was away from Lanon at the time?" Ryan asked.  
  
"Yes," Augustus replied. "The Baron had sent Tobias to Telford as his representative in a three-day judgment hearing over a land dispute. This affability was a bit peculiar, because the Baron had often publicly voiced his lack of confidence in his son's ability to do just about anything."  
  
"Do you believe that the Baron was involved?" Pax asked.  
  
"Who can say? The crux of the story is that Tobias and his retainers found the dismembered bodies of his children, his wife, and her guards scattered around a small clearing. From the condition of the bodies, many believe that they had been attacked by a group of wild animals. The way the flesh was ripped suggests a large predator ... a rock boag ... a mountain lion..."  
  
"... or a dragon." Chris sauntered into the room wearing a loose fitting pair of red silk trousers, and nothing else. "But that's a discussion for another time." He poured a glass of wine and sat down, draping a leg over the right arm of the chair. He dangled the wine glass in his left hand and motioned towards Ryan with it. "Right now, you and I have another matter to discuss." He fixed his son with a lethal sapphire stare. "You were saying?" He said with a tight smile.  
  
Ryan rubbed his chin. "Yes ... well ... as I said before, a silver..."  
  
"What’s this silver's name?" Chris asked in a deceptively quiet voice.  
  
Ryan was not fooled at all by his father's veneer of patience. "His name is Vernonaziger," he cleared his throat. "He told me exactly what to look for... large faceted diamond with a ruby heart," Ryan paused at a sharp gasp from his uncle. "I was to bring it to him within four days, or he would kill Cyril. To prove his point," he paused again and looked at his brother, "he had other silvers hold Cyril down, and then he smashed his head against a boulder. It damaged him somehow, and he hasn't been the same since."  
  
Chris regarded Cyril and noted, for the first time, dark splotches in his aura. Cyril looked back at him with wide, innocent eyes for a moment, and then huddled further into the corner of the couch.  _How could I have missed my own son's lack of vital essence?_ , Chris thought. And then he narrowed his eyes as another thought entered his mind. He glared at Ryan. "What did you do to antagonize this silver?"  
  
Ryan ducked his head and told how he had been caught in the silver's lair fucking his mate, Shirlenaziger, while Cyril kept watch at the entrance.  
  
Christos threw his wine goblet against the wall when Ryan finished speaking. "Vernosnazger abused Cyril because he knew that your life would be forfeited the moment you gave him a Santantas life-stone." He looked at Cyril. "And he probably reasoned that I might be forced to kill my other son." There was no need to vocalize the fact that the weak and infirm could not survive long among a race of predators. Chris sighed. "And of course, you couldn't return home to seek a healer for that very reason."  
  
Ryan gave his father a shrewd look. "You  _know_  this silver."  
  
"We've met," he said, his voice flat and grim.  
  
Chris uncoiled his lanky frame and before anyone could react he had Ryan pinned to the floor with a forearm across his chest ... and the sharp tip of his thrusting dagger beneath his chin. "I  _should_ kill you!" he hissed. "Of all the selfish, thoughtless acts you've committed,  _this_  is by far the worst. Not only have you violated the ancient law of Familial Fealty and put yourself in jeopardy, you've also endangered my life as well as the lives of your uncle and brother!"  
  
"Chris, he's no more reckless than you were at his age," the cleric said while moving closer to the pair. Despite his own promise to his brother, Augustus was determined to stop this if he could.  
  
"I would have  _never_  put you at risk!" Chris said to his brother, though he shouted in Ryan's face. He thrust the tip of his dagger into his son's flesh and left it there to underscore his point. After a tense moment or two he withdrew the blade-tip and helped Ryan to his feet. Chris wiped away a thin trail of blood from his son's neck with a finger and stuck it into his own mouth. Then he pulled Ryan into his arms and kissed his cheek. "I want you and Cyril to stay close to me until we go before the council," he whispered in his son's ear. Ryan nodded contritely and stepped away from his sire with a look of relief. 

Chris then beckoned to Cyril, who eagerly bound into his arms for a hug. "Go on up to bed now, Cyril. We'll talk more tomorrow." 

Cyril nodded and started for the door with Brutus trailing close behind him. The cat paused at the threshold and hissed at Chris. The dragon threw a small pillow at the feline, who jumped two feet in the air and then scampered out the door.  
  
"Must you antagonize every creature you meet?" Augustus admonished with a smile. "He's not going to be too pleased with you when he changes back into his sprite form, you know."  
  
"Of all the annoying devas on Galen, why in the name of the Bright One did you have to choose him? You  _know_  I've never cared much for the little ..."  
  
"He volunteered, okay?"  
  
"And whose idea was it for the little asshole to take the form of a cat?" Chris snarled.  
  
"His." The cleric tried to hide his smile, then lost the battle and laughed at his brother's fierce glare. "Oh, come now, Chris! I know that you and Brutus don't like each other, but even you must admit that he's done a spectacular job of keeping Cyril calm."  
  
The anger drained from Chris at the mention of Cyril's name. "Augustus, do you think that Glori can heal my son?" He sat down in the chair and clasped his hands between his thighs. "I … I really don't want to think about the alternative."  
  
Ryan was instantly on his feet, pacing in front of his father like a young mountain lion about to challenge the authority of the head of his pride. Their eyes locked, and they focused on each other ... father to son ... predator to predator. The only sound in the room was the crackling and popping of the wood burning in the fireplace. Ryan's pacing, fueled by mental images of Cyril lying broken and bloody, soon reached a frantic intensity. He stopped in front of his father, adopting a warrior's stance ... though he was not aware of it.  
  
Christosantantas looked at his son through shifting emotions. He eyed Ryan through a father's pride at the courage it took to make this stand in defense of his brother, his constant companion for three hundred and fifty years. He eyed Ryan through a father's sorrow at what he might soon have to do ... end the life of one child, and cause unbearable pain to the other. And he eyed Ryan with annoyance at his son's apparent lack of faith in his intention to do whatever necessary to save Cyril's life before making that hardest of decisions.  
  
"What are you going to do to Cyril?" Ryan demanded.  
  
Chris studied his hands. "There's a good chance that Glori might be able to heal him."  
  
"And if she's not? What then, father?"  
  
Chris raised his head and looked into his son's eyes. "Then, I'll do whatever I deem best for Cyril."  
  
"He's my brother," Ryan said, his voice tight with emotion.  
  
"He's my child. The decision and responsibility is mine," Chris said with finality.  
  
"Ryan," Augustus walked over and placed a hand on his nephew's shoulder. "Glori is one of the best healers I've ever been blessed to know." He smiled, and then he leaned in to whisper in the young dragon's ear. "You must have faith in your father, Ryan. If there is a way... he will find it."  
  
Ryan looked back and forth between his uncle and his father. He nodded and sat down on the couch again only to spring back up. "Glori is coming here?" he asked, his eyes bright with excitement.  
  
Augustus sighed and looked at Ryan with kind pity. "Yes, Glori and Miguel will arrive sometime tomorrow morning." The cleric rubbed his chin. It was no great secret that Ryan was in love with Glori and that she remained unmoved by his advances. The young dragonette's only desire was to serve Surra through her gift of healing.  
  
Forge snorted. "Yew 're a black-hearted spalpeen to be lustin' so after yer own kin."  
  
Ryan stomped over to the fireplace. "It's not lust, you cantankerous old gnome!"  
  
"Gnome!" the dwarf roared. "Ocht! I donna know how Himself puts up wit' yew! If yew be me own lad, I'd ..."  
  
"Augustus," Pax interjected, "has your daughter made her decision?"  
  
The cleric rocked back on his heels and smiled. "Yes! In one month's time Glori will take her vows and become a cleric of Surra," he said with pride.  
  
Forge pointed a half-eaten leg of mutton at Ryan. "Ha! There's a pail o' cold water on yerself, yew randy lizard!" he crowed.  
  
Ryan glared at the dwarf. "Clerics can mate," he said. But his cool mask of confidence was soon shattered by a look of apprehension. "Unless ..." he shot a pleading look his uncle's way.  
  
"I'm sorry, Ryan," the cleric said, his gentle voice full of concern. "Glori has also decided to take the vow of celibacy."  
  
Forge snorted. "A body might also add tha' the lass donna love yew. An' have ye no shame then, to be lusin' fer yer own cousin?"  
  
"Cousins are allowed to mate..."  
  
"… but first cousins are encouraged not to." Augustus said with a sigh. "We've had this conversation before, Ryan. As a favor to me," he cupped the back of Ryan's head with a hand, "please don't pressure Glori about her decision or take any undue advantage of her at this vulnerable time. This is her first morph into human form. Her senses will be overwhelmed enough as it is without you adding more stimulus."  
  
Ryan looked down at the floor and then up at the cleric. "Uncle," he said, "I promise not to do anything to Glori that she doesn't want me to do."  
  
"Ocht. Now, there's a loophole waitin' to happen," Forge grumbled into his beard.  
  
*********************************  
  
Tobias dreamed of dragons. But unlike the earlier dreams of large bright dragons that flew through the sky in vivid streaks of colors and almost blinded his mind, this dream was a pastel swirl, a gentle breeze, and a sweet caress. In the dream Tobias stood upon a pinnacle as a huge, gold dragon flew around and around the pinnacle in a graceful glide. The dragon entreated Tobias over and over to leap out onto a breeze and fly to him. Tobias heard the dragon's voice whisper in his mind, "It's a leap of faith, Tobi ... a leap of faith. You are draoi. You can be anything you want ... it's a leap of faith, Sanmiko. Trust me."  
  
Tobias awakened from the dream with a raging hard-on and his arms wrapped around a large pillow. He nuzzled the silk pillowcase and rubbed his erection in a delicious grind against the mattress. Awareness hit him with a sudden jolt and his eyes flew open. He sat up and winched from a dull pain in his ass.   _Oh, Sweet Surra ... it really happened!_  he thought, and then buried his face in his hands.   _What will father think of his worthless son now?_  He eased himself up from the bed and sought out the water closet.  
  
Inside the well-equipped room he found a low bathtub big enough for at least three people, plush bath towels ... and that his feet were warmed by heated floor tiles. After he relieved himself he examined an assortment of bottles containing fragrant bath salts. He removed the lids from several bottles and sniffed before settling on orange beads that smelled of ripe peaches. He paused for a moment and then replaced that bottle in favor of one that smelled of aloe, which would do more to sooth his aching rear. Satisfied, he prepared his bath.  
  
Tobias caught his reflection in a mirror on his left just before stepping into the tub. He noted the creamy skin; the long strawberry-blond locks ... and thought himself ... feminine.   _Is this what he sees when he looks at me? Is that why...?_  His eyes moved to the passion marks on his neck and chest, and he couldn't remember getting them. What he  _did_  remember was lust ... an overpowering drive with keen edges that severed his common sense and left his libido free to dance a wanton ballet. His face burned as he recalled his own participation in acts so lewd they would embarrass the most common whore in Lanon. His mind whirled.   _Why would I suddenly desire a man ..._  he froze.  

_Magic!_

_That bastard used magic on me!_ He pushed hair from his face and a sudden quiver moved through his body with the memory of Chris's hands buried in his hair ... of Chris smelling his hair...of Chris moaning as Tobias's hair touched his skin. Tobias shook off the memory. He raced into the bedchamber and hunted around until he found a small, sharp knife. Then he returned to the water closet. He wiped steamed off the mirror with a trembling hand, pulled a hunk of hair away from his head ... and began to slice.


	8. Chapter 8

Tobias found Chris in a small clearing not far from the lake. He stood in awe and watched from the cover of bushes as the dragon performed his morning kata while wearing a pair of knee-length linen pantaloons. Warriors in his father's employment had performed ritual katas, but none of them had moved with such deadly grace. Each muscle on the dragon's bare chest and back flowed as he thrust, kicked, turned, bent, swayed and breathed with incredible force. Then he took up his sword and performed a different kata with equal force and grace. His body glistened with sweat by the time he finished a final release move with an eloquent salute to the chi energy with his sword. He returned the blade to its sheath, then turned and looked directly at Tobias's hiding place among the bushes. His gaze of warmth turned into one of shock as he slowing walked towards the Baron's son. His eyes remained fixed on Tobias's hair ... which was now cut very, very short and close to his head in 'warrior' fashion.  
  
"Sanmiko, what have you done? What did you do to your beautiful hair?" He reached out a hand as if to touch the newly sheared head, but Tobias pulled away from him.  
  
"Don't!" Tobias could not look at him, afraid of what he might see.  
  
Chris lifted the younger man's chin with a finger and studied his blushing face. "What is it, Sanmiko? What's wrong?"  
  
"I don't want you touching me! I don't want you using magic or-or  _whatever_  it was you did to me yesterday that made me do those things!" He gave the dragon a suspicious look. "How many others have you lured into your bed with magic?" he asked.  
  
Chris smiled. "I used no magic on you, Sanmiko."  
  
"Liar!" Tobias hissed, refusing to be appeased. He jerked his head away from those stimulating fingers and clenched his hands into fists at his side. "Why else would I ... behave in that manner with a man?" he paused when Chris raised an eyebrow. "Oh, you know what I mean!" he huffed. "Why else, in the name of Surra, would I do such things with you?"  
  
"One supposes that you did such things with me because you  _liked_  doing them with me." The dragon said, his voice filled with wry humor. "But no matter," he held a hand up to forestall the retort on Tobias's lips. "You obviously need some time to yourself in order to adjust to your new life. I am more than willing to give you that space, Sanmiko. Because..."he finished the sentence in a language that Tobias did not understand. Then he was quiet for a while, staring at the younger man's flushed face. "I am going to move you into your own suite of rooms," he said, with an unfathomable tone in his voice and a shadow of disappointment upon his face.  
  
The flush on Tobias's face deepened. "I see," he said, his nostrils flaring in anger. Then he lifted his chin in wounded pride. "You've had your fun with the amusing little human toy, but now it's time to toss him aside!"  
  
"I beg your pardon?" Chris laughed, with an incredulous look in his eyes.   
  
Tobias answered that question with one of his own. "Tell me, do you keep a tally of all the men you've humiliated in this manner?"  
  
"You mistake my meaning, Sanmiko," the dragon said as he took a step forward.  
  
"Then, speak plainly," Tobias took a step backward. "And  _do not_  call me that!"  
  
Chris raised his hands in a placating gesture. "I'm sorry if anything I said offended you. My only intent is your comfort and ..." he staggered back a step or two from the impact of Tobias's punch to his lower jaw.  
  
The dragon probed the inside of his bottom lip with his tongue and fixed Tobias with a look that would have signaled a warning to those who knew him well. "Do you feel better?" he asked, with a dangerous glint deep in his sapphire eyes. "Is your manhood once again intact?"  
  
Tobias pressed his lips together and shook his head in a shamefaced denial of the truth in those words. "Fuck you!" he said. He started to turn away only to find himself slammed painfully back against a tree. He had not even seen the dragon move.  
  
There was no mistaking the menace in the dragon's eyes now as he leaned in close to Tobias. The slow, deliberate grin he offered did nothing to counter the cold promise in those eyes. "I am not now, nor have I ever been a paragon of virtue, Tobias." He lowered his head a bit and held the younger man's eyes fast with his own. "I would advise you not to provoke me into proving that to you."  
  
A brief spark of fear flared in Tobias's eyes...and then his anger exploded. "Let go of me!" He pushed and tugged in vain at the strong arms restraining him. "I want to go back to the monastery!"  
  
"No."  
  
"Why  _fucking_  not?"  
  
"Because your place and your home is now with me, Tobias."  
  
"You can't keep me here against my will," Tobias grated out between clenched teeth. "My father..."  
  
"...is of no consequence to me." The grin became wider and the eyes darker. "The pleasure we shared last night now embarrasses you," he ran a hand down the silky stubble at the back of the younger man's head, "and you are angry because you feel that you were compelled against your will?" He brought their foreheads together and closed his eyes when Tobias gasped at the contact. He inhaled the other man's breath and basked for a moment in the heady scent of desire that emanated from him. Then he forced himself to step away. "Very well, Tobias. I promise you that I will not do anything else to you that you do not want me to do."  
  
Chris turned and started up the path towards the garden and the house beyond. Tobias watched his progress and could not help but admire the way his body moved with a sense of longing. He called after him when he was halfway up the path. "If you don't ... if you're not going to ..." he swallowed. "Then, why am I here?"  
  
"Power calls to power," the dragon said without turning around.  
  
Tobias waited, but when nothing further was added he asked sarcastically, "Is that another famous saying among dragons, or am I suppose to know what it means?"  
  
This time, the dragon did stop. He turned around and said, "It means, Tobias, that perhaps it is time for you and I to be formally introduced. Come with me to the front lawn." He turned left and walked along another path. He and Tobias met on the side of the manor and continued on together in silence. When they reached the front of the manor the dragon instructed the Baron's son to stand near the entrance way while he continued on, until he stood in the middle of the wide space. Soon Tobias felt something similar to what he had experienced in the lake; that undeniable presence of powerful energy enveloping him, and the sense of the world shifting. He looked out to the lawn and rubbed his eyes when the now familiar form of his lover began to blur. The blur became larger and larger until it settled into the shape of an immense gold dragon with radiant sapphire eyes. 

The dragon crouched down into a comfortable position and folded his wings regally at his sides. He lowered his head down near the started young man and said, "Please allow me to introduce myself, Tobias. My name is Christosantantas, Prince of the House of Santantas. It is a pleasure and an honor to meet you."  
  
Tobias was speechless. He was completely overwhelmed with emotion as he gawked up at the magnificent creature in awe. It was one thing to know what his lover was, but quite another thing to actually  _see_  him in his true form. Waves of energy pummeled him as he was tossed about in a whirlpool of new sensations. His chest was suddenly tight and his vision began to dim. He felt weightless and weighted at the same time.    
  
Christosantantas narrowed his eyes in concern. "Breathe, Sanmiko," he said.  
  
_Breathe?_  He opened his mouth and inhaled deep gulps of air.   _Ah, yes ... air in and out ... the heart pumps ... Why do I keep forgetting to do that around you?_  He opened his eyes, and everything was different. A new nexus had been formed and he could almost see the image of his old self crumble away and blow into the past. He felt a little giddy yet connected as he never had before to everything around him. He blinked as he became aware of lines of energy wafting from the ground, the grass, the trees in the orchard, and especially the dragon.   _My big golden warrior, my lizard-wizard, my huge scaly-welly!_  He giggled and felt his equilibrium slip as his mind began to spin.  
  
The dragon chuckled low in his throat. He had a pretty good idea of what Tobias was experiencing because he had just removed the anonymous protection shield from around him.   _Augustus will flay me with a vicious tongue lashing for that, but it's past time for Tobias to realize what he is_ , Chris thought. He morphed back into human form and walked over to the Baron's son. He placed his hands on either side of the younger man's head.  
  
"Sanmiko, you must listen to me. You need to shield yourself and ground so that you can funnel all of that excess energy bubbling around inside you. Otherwise, your system will overload. Now, I want you to close your eyes and picture a full suit of armor made of white light. Can you see it? No? Try hard, Sanmiko, this is important ... Do you see it now? ... Good! Now, I want you to  _will_  the armor closer to you until it fits perfectly around your body ... it's not heavy at all, and extremely flexible. The closer the armor gets to you the further away all other energies retreat from you ... including mine." When Tobias gave an immense sigh of relief the dragon knew that the shield was in place.   
  
"That's excellent, Tobias. This is only a temporary shield, but it will hold until your teacher arrives. Now, the next thing we need to do is to help you to ground yourself. I want you to imagine your feet extending down through the terra as if they were a giant root. When the root reaches the core of Galen it becomes anchored there. Can you feel the anchor?" Tobias nodded his head. "Good. Next, I want you to imagine that a hollow white column extends from the center of Galen up to the brightest star in the night sky. That star is the Bright One ... the Lord Surra, Tobias ... and the column runs from deep in the center of Galen up through your spine and onward until it reaches the bright God. This is how energy flows...can you feel it?" Tobias gave another nod of his the head.   
  
"Good! There is too much energy in you right now, Sanmiko. I want you to gather the excess from the tips of your toes and fingers, and from about three feet above your head. Then I want you to channel it down the column into the ground. Good, Sanmiko. And one last time ... good. Now, open your eyes."  
  
Tobias opened his eyes and then swayed on his feet. "I feel ... I feel a little tired," he croaked in a hoarse voice. Then he collapsed in the dragon's arms.  
  
***************************************  
  
"You are hopelessly incorrigible!" the cleric railed at his brother. "You couldn't wait a few more hours for Kareem Said to arrive, could you? Nooooo ... you  _had_  to be the one to tell him!"  
  
Chris sliced another piece of apple and chewed with relish while his brother railed on. His own mind was on those guests yet to arrive today. He had genuine affection for his niece and nephew and would tolerate both the mage Busmalis and this cleric, Brother Ray (who were in their rooms resting after their long journey by foot), for his brother's sake. But he was not at all comfortable with the human draoi whom Augustus had chosen as Tobias's teacher. 

Kareem Said and his followers worshiped a different aspect of the God Surra. His sect worshiped the Ra'Ming aspect of the God where instead of a monastery as a place of worship there was a mosque, and instead of an Abbott, they had an Iman. Said was an Iman, though that in itself did not bother Christos. Not all draoi were devoutly pious, he himself was proof of that, though many believed that the gift came directly from God. No, what bothered him was the belief this sect had that male love, two men having sex, was an abomination ... an anathema. Tobias was self-conscious enough on his own accord without a 'holy man' lecturing him on the evils of same sex love.    
  
Chris ate another piece of apple and glanced over at Tobias's sleeping form lying upon the couch. A sudden movement drew his eye and he caught Brutus in the act of stalking him from around the corner of a chair. The dragon twirled the knife in his hand and gave the cat a meaningful scowl. The feline's eyes grew round as he looked from the knife to the dragon's face and back again. He turned and scurried up and over Tobias, then burrowed down between the still form and the back of the couch.  
  
"Christos, are you listening to me? I simply do not understa...!"  
  
Ryan suddenly sprang up from his chair and faced the chamber door. "Father, Uncle Augustus ... they're here," he said.  
  
The doors opened and Glori raced into her father's arms while Miguel followed at a slower pace, but with the same look of pleasure upon his face. The others entered more cautiously and waited respectfully near the door, where they were unceremoniously knocked aside by Forge as he stomped into the room, demanding "Where be me lass?" at the top of his voice. At the same time, Brutus climbed Tobias's chest and laid a gentle paw against one of his cheeks. Tobias stirred and opened his eyes, then sat up quickly when he noticed the activity around him.  
  
Glori turned and stared at the dwarf with a look of wonderment, having only viewed him before through her dragon eyes. Then she rushed over, hugged him tightly and kissed him on the cheek ... much to the dwarf's embarrassment and everyone else's delight. And everyone pretended not to notice the suspicious moisture in his eyes at her greeting. "There's a good lass," he said as he awkwardly patted her back, "Tis a pleasure ta see yew again. Now stand back a bit an' let a body hav' a look at yew, then." She stepped back at arm's length and the dwarf studied her heart-shaped face, large exotic eyes, full lips, and tawny skin. "Ocht! Sure 'en tis a fine job o' it yew've done, yer first time an' all. And yew be after likin' Himself's choice o' skin color as well, then?"  
  
Glori smiled sweetly and looked over at her father. "I wanted a color somewhere in between my father's and Miguel's," she said, and then shyly reached out a hand to touch his beard. "Oh, Uncle Forge," she whispered, "I can hug you ... I can really touch you." Then she threw her arms around the old dwarf and squeezed him tightly.  
  
"I'll be after needin' ta breathe again soon, don't ye know?" Forge wheezed, his face red as a beet.  
  
Across the room Miguel received warm hugs from his father, uncle, and cousins. And then turned to introduce the rest of the guests. "Father, Uncle Christos. May I present The Iman Said and his assistant Arif."  
  
The two Ra'mors bowed and then Said stepped forward. "My lords Santantas," he said to Chris and Augustus, "it is an honor. May the light always shine upon your wings."  
  
_Well said_ , Christosantantas admitted grudgingly to himself.   _It appears that he has studied us as closely as we have studied him._  "The honor is ours, Iman," he replied. "Please consider this your home for as long as it takes to train Tobias," he glanced at Arif as he spoke. "My son Ryan will show you to your rooms when you are ready."  
  
"We have planned a special 'Year's End' feast for tonight," Augustus added," so you might want to settle down for a long nap. And we would be honored if you would join us in calling the four quarters during the ceremony, Iman Said."  
  
Said bowed and then turned to Tobias and studied him a moment. Then he smiled "Well met, Tobias. Judging by the confused look you're giving me I believe that our first lesson will begin now. Tobias, do you know what you are?"  
  
Tobias glanced over at Chris and then back at Said. "Before this morning I would have answered that I am the son of the Baron of Beechershire. But now, I'm not sure if that would be the correct response." He paused for a moment, acutely aware that the connection he felt with this man was similar, if not as intense, as the one he shared with the dragon.  
  
"You are draoi, Tobias. As am I ... and as is the lord Christosantantas."  
  
*************************************************  
  
Chris leaned back in the tub and rested his head on a soft towel as hot fragrant water relaxed his tense body. Dragons sought opulence by nature, but nothing could quite compare to the simple pleasure of a hot bath in a large tub with mounds of bubbles. He sighed contentedly. This was bliss. He willed his mind away from all thoughts of Cyril, the council meeting, Said ... and Tobias. But no sooner had he banished the name from his mind he sensed the younger man's presence in the bedchamber, and then at door of the water closet.  
  
"What are you doing here, Tobias. I distinctly recall preparing a comfortable suite of rooms for you this morning."  
  
"Yes, well ... the bed is lumpy..."  
  
"You could turn the mattress."  
  
"...and the room is cold..."  
  
"You could light a fire."  
  
"...and you're not there."  
  
The dragon open his eyes and looked over at the younger man, whose naked body glowed faintly in the soft candle light. His cock grew hard at the enticing sight. He held out a hand and Tobias took it and joined him in the tub. And as soon as he settled in their hungry mouths met in a long, deep, wet kiss. The need for air soon forced them apart and Chris attacked Tobias's neck with his lips and tongue, returning over and over again to the younger man's nape.  
  
Tobias moaned deep in his throat. "I thought you'd be angry that I cut my hair," he said, as that blazing mouth applied suction to a spot just below his right ear. "I wanted to hurt you."  
  
"I know," Chris slid his mouth down the younger man's jugular vein and applied suction where the neck met the shoulder. His breathing increased when Tobias began to writhe against him.  
  
"I'm sorry," Tobias said. He cried out in disappointment when Chris removed his mouth and pulled away from him. He sat up in the tub and open his mouth to protest, but was stopped by the look on the dragon's face. This was not the intense look of need and passion from last night. This was the intense look from this morning, when he was slammed again a tree and held there by a steel grip. "Chris, I truly am sorry."  
  
"Show me," the dragon said. Then he rinsed himself and stepped out of the tub. Tobias quickly followed suit and soon the two stood facing each other beside the bed.  
  
Tobias was alight with passion. His body tingled with it. He looked into Chris's eyes and realized that the dragon was aware of his feelings. His cock throbbed when Chris cupped the back of his neck and pulled him into a rough kiss. Strong hands moved down his back and grabbed his ass possessively, kneading it with deft fingers. He knees threatened to buckle when the dragon sucked on his tongue as if it was his cock. Then the kiss was broken and Tobias's head was pulled down to Chris's left nipple, where he laved and nibbled and sucked until he was pulled to the other one. Then his mouth was pulled down to that beautiful cock. He shivered when Chris began to utter instructions in a warm seductive voice that teased his libido and propelled him into the dark recess of passion. "Suck the head and lick it with your tongue at the same time, Sanmiko ... yeessss, like that!"    
  
Tobias was consumed with hunger for the little moans and cries that escaped the dragon's mouth. It gave him a sense of power to be able to affect such a potent being with just his touch. And once again, the dragon seemed to sense his thoughts and feelings. His mouth was pulled off the dragon's cock with a wet 'slurping' sound and he was pushed back against the bed. Chris soon joined him there with a small jar in his hands. Tobias looked closer and realized that it was massage oil.  
  
The dragon handed the jar to the younger man and then stretched out on his back. Tobias coated his hands liberally with the oil and then began massaging the beautiful body before him. He started at the feet and worked his way up powerful thighs to the cock nestled within a bed of hair like an offering to Surra. He oiled the cock, causing the dragon to squirm, then he pulled back the foreskin and blew his breath on the head. The dragon lifted his hips off the bed and ground them into the air.  
  
Tobias moved his hands up to that spectacular stomach and chest, where he paid special attention to those painfully erect nipples. Then he moved on to the arms, then the fingers. He caressed the sensitive pads in between each finger, causing the dragon to moan and thrum in earnest. Tobias's cock leaked pre-cum ... there was a wet trail of it along Chris's thighs. He bent his head and began to clean it up with his tongue but the dragon pulled him up hard against his body. They stayed that way for a while, grinding their cocks together and sliding their chests up and down, tormenting their nipples on each pass.

Chris finally pushed him away and turned over onto his stomach. He spread his legs and moved his ass suggestively. "Show me," he said. Tobias nearly came from the spasm of desire that assailed his body at the implication of those words. The response he got when his oiled fingers entered Chris's ass fueled his lust anew. The dragon slithered around on the bed and thrummed so loudly that Tobias was sure the others in the manor could hear him. He grinned at the image of Augustus's pained expression.  
  
Tobias placed his cock against Chris's hot ass. He pushed gently and was shocked when the dragon reared back and impaled his entire length. Tobias was suspended in the ether by intense pleasure. The sensation rivaled the sweetest note ever produced and sustained on a violin. Sweat poured down his body and his own moans joined the dragon's in the "let's embarrass Augustus" symphony of noise. He had never imagined anything as satisfying as the hot velvet pressure surrounding his cock. He looked down as Chris began to grind his ass, massaging and pulling at his cock with unbelievable force. He lost all control and started pounding into that sweet, sweet, place until, finally, the universe stood still and angels wept. An age later, he collapsed on top of the dragon's broad back, grinding out the last of his orgasm with quick, powerful thrusts. He wrapped his arms around Chris's body and kissed his back and neck possessively. He could never give this up ...  _never_. And his last thought before slipping into sleep was that the dragon knew it, too. 


	9. Chapter 9

The Iman Said straightened his travel robes and then accepted a delicate cup and saucer from Glori's hand. He did not miss her faint blush and lowered eyes, nor did he miss the embarrassed, pained expression upon the face of Brother Augustus. The Iman had blocked out the lustful sounds as soon as they began floating down from the upper levels of the manor, but it had taken all of his training to block his anger. He was being made aware, in the least subtle manner possible, of the unnatural relationship between Christosantantas and Tobias. The uncomfortable body language of the others in the room only served to reinforce his suspicion that the noises were an anomaly. This profane aria from on high had been staged for his benefit alone.   _Unnatural twice, and twice damned!_ / he thought.   _Bad enough to engage in sex with another man, but sex with an ‘animal?’... this can not be tolerated!_  
  
The Iman closed his eyes and inhaled. The fragrant herbal tea did much to calm his ire. He sipped and allowed the tasteful decorations in the impressive library to distract him, his eyes returning often to the large stained glass windows. He stood and walked over to the west window just as the late afternoon sun filtered through the colored glass and drenched his white robes in a vivid rainbow.  
  
Said took another sip of tea and turned around. The entire east wall---at least forty feet wide--contained floor to ceiling shelves filled with hundreds of books. The wall was split into five levels with deep four-shelved mahogany bookcases build into the wall on each one. The base and top border of each wooden bookcase was a two-foot carved relief scene of some long ago battle featuring dragons and knights. Each level had a five-foot wide landing with a waist-high railing. Starting on the second level, a comfortable chair was placed with its back to either the north or south wall while an eight-foot high flight of stairs at the opposite end of the landing led up to the next level. A small mahogany table with a sphere of faery light upon it stood next to each chair. These spheres were also attached beneath each landing at five-foot intervals, illuminating the bookshelves.  
  
As his eyes traveled upward Said could see that the landing on the fifth level connected to a balcony that stretched the length of the south wall. A door, presumably leading to rooms and bedroom suites in both the east and west wings of the manor, was situated at each end. The balcony extended out over the library in a twelve by fifteen foot oval, intimate nook about a third of the way down, and then narrowed back into its original width until it reached the far end of the south wall. An oval-shaped skylight of the same dimensions was built directly over this area. Said could just make out the tops of colorful couch cushions near the edge of the balcony railing from where he stood. He surmised that the clear glass skylight would provide excellent reading light throughout the day, and even on nights with a full moon. Finally realizing that there was an unusual amount of natural light in the large room, Said looked up and discovered small skylights cleverly woven within and around the wing-shaped designs of the vaulted ceiling. He marveled at the ingenious architecture of the library, and indeed the entire manor, which seemed to be built for comfort rather than show.  
  
Said wandered over and surveyed several of the titles in the bookcase on the main floor. He nearly dropped the cup and saucer when his eyes beheld priceless tomes of knowledge spanning many years on one of the shelves in a mere five-foot section. He now realized the enormous honor Augustus had accorded him when he had requested the Iman as a teacher for Tobias. He and Arif would stay at the manor until the Baron's son acquired an understanding of his power and how to use it; which meant full access of the library for them both.   _But at what price?_ Said thought with a sigh. He considered the abominable act above him and his anger resurfaced. Said turned, full of resolve, and found himself face to face with the elf.  
  
Pax studied the Iman for a moment, taking in the increased brilliance of his aura and the determined set of his shoulders. "You should consider well before challenging the dragon over something that is so obviously and completely his," the elf said.  
  
"His?" the Iman hissed between clenched teeth. "Tobias isn't a pet, nor is he anyone's property."  
  
The elf dipped his head in acknowledgement. "Even so, the young human is where they both wish him to be at the moment."  
  
"At the moment, the 'young human' has not the slightest inkling of his true nature or his power. He's at the most vulnerable stage of his life, no matter how long his life turns out to be, and that  _creature_  is taking advantage of him!"  
  
A frown marred the elf's smooth forehead. His bright green eyes blazed with a sudden shrewd light. "And would you impose your own will upon Tobias as you so firmly believe the dragon has done? Draoi you may be, but listen well ... you are no match for Prince Christosantantas. Even in his human form he could pull your beating heart from your chest without breathing hard through his skill as a warrior alone. And you cannot begin to fathom the depth of his magic or his power."  
  
Said folded his arms across his chest and planted his feet apart in a sturdy stance. He held the elf's eyes in a stare. "I have power and magic of my own," he said. His voice was calm and without the slightest hint of boast.  
  
Pax bowed with respect. "Yes, draoi Said, your power is immense ... but his is greater. I caution you to talk to Tobias first before embarking upon a path destined to end with your demise, or worse. Your death would be a loss the Balance can ill afford."  
  
Said sighed, then nodded to the elf in reluctant agreement. "For that reason alone, it shall be as you advise."  
  
******************************************  
  
Tobias moved his leg up and down the muscled limb of his lover, the water adding a slick, sensuous friction to the glide of flesh against flesh. He marveled that they had found their bath as they had left it... warm and filled to the brim with fragrant bubbles. He decided that the dragon's right ear was in dire need of a 'special' bath and applied his mouth, lips, and tongue to the task with gusto. He grinned around the earlobe when he heard the thrum begin low in Chris's throat. He wasn't surprised when his mouth was captured in a demanding kiss, and he was even less surprised when he was lifted and turned to straddle the dragon's hips. He  _was_  surprised, however, by the stern expression on his lover's face.  
  
"This is not a pleasure bath, Sanmiko. We have to prepare for the ceremony. And have you forgotten that your teacher waits for you downstairs?"  
  
Tobias leaned forward and stubbornly nuzzled the dragon's neck. "Why can't  _you_  teach me?" he purred. "You've taught me everything else."  
  
Chris smiled. "I can't, Tobias. Magic functions differently in humans than it does in dragons," he paused and raked his deep sapphire eyes over Tobias with a passion so intense it caused the younger man to blush. "But even if I could teach you I wouldn't. Neither one of us would ever concentrate on the lesson. So behave, or you'll find yourself bathing in the lake."  
  
Tobias grinned and then frowned as a sad look stole across the dragon's face. "You're worried about Cyril, aren't you?" He smoothed his thumbs over the dragon's cheeks. "Do you believe Glori can heal him?"  
  
"I hope so. She'll have the added energy we'll provide by calling the Four Corners."  
  
"What will you do if she fails?" Tobias asked in a whisper. He was frightened when the only response from Chris was a look of cold steel. 

The mention of Cyril seemed to bring on a somber mood in Chris that deepened as he and Tobias finished their bath and moved into the bedchamber. Tobias, nettled by the notion of a stranger teaching him magic, and still more than a bit uneasy over the impending separation from his lover, had become increasingly more petulant.  
  
"But  _why_  must you leave me behind?" Tobias asked, his voice muffled as he pulled a white, long-sleeve hooded robe over his head.  
  
Chris sighed, then stood and pulled a pair of red leather pants up over his hips and tied them. "Sanmiko, the first few weeks with your teacher are very important. It's crucial for you have as few distractions as possible during that time." He walked over to the window, leaned with his forearms against the sill, and watched the late afternoon sun spread its orange shawl across the surface of the lake.   
  
Tobias pressed his lips together and sniffed. His cheeks were flushed a pale pink. "Your concern is touching," he replied, with just a hint of steel beneath the sarcasm. Christos looked over his shoulder and cocked an eyebrow at the younger man's tone, then he turned back to face the window with a grin.  
  
"Look at it another way, Sanmiko," Christos allowed a bit of humor to creep into his voice. "If you remain here and learn how to use your magic, there is less change that you'll end up as the first course in some dragon's belly." He studied the position of the sun as it dipped toward the horizon and judged that the gloaming, the 'in between' time he and Augustus had decided upon for the ritual, was less than an hour away.  
  
The younger man moved over behind Christos and slowly ran his hands up and down the dragon's broad bare back, then slipped his arms around his lover's chest and hugged him close. "I could just as well learn magic when we return, you know," he whispered, his voice warm with promise.  
  
"The situation that awaits me at home..." his breathing hitched as Tobias licked and nibbled on his shoulders, "... is serious." He pulled gently away from the enticing body pressed against him and the talented hands stroking up and down his chest. He turned just in time to see the hurt expression on his lover's face, and grabbed him by the arms before he could move away. He looked at Tobias and ran a hand over the short strands of hair and closed his eyes against the sudden image of short red curls against creamy skin on another part of the younger man's body. Shaking himself from the image, he licked his lips and then gently cupped the younger man's chin. " _I_ cannot afford any distractions either, Sanmiko."  
  
Tobias jerked away at that and moved to stand by the chaise lounge next to the fireplace. He frowned and folded his arms across his chest. "How long will you be away?" he huffed, more perturbed than ever at not getting his way.  
  
Chris leaned back against the window with his elbows on the sill. "I'll have to remain in Caurus until this matter is settled." He pushed away from the window and walked over to a chest from which he removed a supple red leather tunic. "There is more at stake here than you realize," the dragon said, before pulling first a black cotton under tunic over his head and then the hooded thigh-length red tunic.  
  
Tobias narrowed his eyes and paced back and forth, all the while watching the dragon as he buckled a belt around his waist and then tugged on a pair of black leather boots that ended two inches about his knees. "And how long will that take?" he asked impatiently.  
  
"As long as it takes, Sanmiko."  
  
Tobias's frown deepened. "As long as it takes?" He picked up a bolster from the chaise lounge and threw it at Chris, catching him in the face as he looked in the younger man's direction. "That is  _not_ the answer I want to hear from you! I will  _not_  be treated like some...some  _whore_  with whom you dally, and with whom you can come and go as you please!"  
  
Chris stalked towards Tobias. "Oh my," he said with a dark smile and a dangerous glint in his eyes, "it appears that I have upset the Baron's son, once again."  
  
Tobias backed away, his lips pressed thin with anger. "You only want me in your bed, admit it!"  
  
"That isn't true, I want and need you as a helpmate as well as a bedmate. And I might add that using your insecurity as tantrum fodder is loosing its charm, Tobias. It stops now," the dragon said with finality.  
  
"What are you going to do, lock me away without food or drink until I bend to your will?" Tobias sneered. "Are you going to whip me with a birch switch?"  
  
"No, a birch switch should only be used on a spoiled, petulant child. And though it seems to me that you've enjoyed that privileged state for far too long," Christos paused as he dodged another bolster, "you are a man, and I'm going to treat you as one." He continued to stalk the other man, his eyes dark with menace. "You wanted instruction from me? So be it. Lesson number one: never provoke a draoi more power than you."  
  
Tobias took a step back in surprise when he felt the warm tingle of magic against his skin.

 


	10. Chapter 10

Chris was more relieved than satisfied as he watched Tobias disappear from the room in a splash of bright light. The young man's tantrum had been timely. The gloaming was fast approaching and he had to prepare Cyril for the unthinkable. That is, in the event that Glori's attempt to heal him failed, and made the 'unthinkable,' inevitable. It was a difficult enough task to contemplate without the emotional barbs he was sure that his lover, a father whose own children had been murdered, would hurl at him if he was around to witness this most important dragon duty. Tobias simply would not understand.  
  
The dragon sighed. He glanced once more at the place where Tobias had stood a moment before, then roused himself. He crossed the room to the south wall near the fireplace and spoke a word of magic, whereupon a portion of the seamless wall slid to the right, revealing a twelve-foot by twenty-foot sanctum. Like most other rooms within the manor the floor of this inner chamber was layered with comfortable Lambian rugs, valued throughout the world of Galen for their soft, thick pile. The rugs also served as natural conductors; which was well and good, because the space in the sanctum hummed with magic. The terra colors in the room represented Danae, the Nature aspect of the God Surra, whose energy was both male and female.

Energy curled around Chris as he moved inside and stood before the dominant feature in the sanctum, an altar made of smoky quartz. The altar held several ritual items: The dragon's athame, a razor-sharp knife representing 'air,' sat on the east end of the altar before an embedded diamond. A wand representing 'fire,' made from the wood of an ancient oak tree, sat on the south end of the altar before an embedded ruby. A long-stemmed cup representing 'water' sat on the west end of the altar before an embedded sapphire. And an earthenware bowl filled with rock salt, representing 'earth,' sat on the north end of the altar before an embedded emerald. These items glowed of their own accord, having absorbed the dragon's energy and residual magic from past rituals performed whenever he was in human form.  
  
The dragon's true altar was in his lair high in the Caurus Peaks, a place so heavily warded with magic that only his blood kin could enter without a protective talisman much like the one that Forge Ironcaster wore. But these, his personal ritual items, traveled with him wherever he went.  
  
Christosantantas picked up the athame and held it across both his palms. The obsidian blade and onyx handle, both stones forged by and emblematic of fire, were joined in seamless union. As the dragon meditated upon it, runes on the handle flared into life, fueled by his energy. He grounded the energy and then forced it out a bit beyond the confines of his shields. He would soon once again inhabit his own immense body. It was time, then, to extend his energy out beyond the confines of his small, human form.  
  
He closed his eyes and allowed the energy to flow from his anchor in the center of Galen to his Higher Self, and on to the cosmos. He was aware of everything and a part of everything. This state of bliss, sacred to all magi regardless of their rank, was called the Palm of Surra or Ra'Ming or Danae depending upon which aspect of the God one worshipped. And all too soon, surely sooner than he would have liked, an innate sense pulled Christosantantas out of his trance. It was time to see his son.  
  
**************************************************

  
Brutus the cat scurried from one corner of the large bedchamber to another, scampering across or under pieces of furniture in his path. At each brief pause in the trek his wide, frantic eyes flickered from the heavy door to Cyril's sleeping form upon the bed.  
  
The feline froze when he sensed a presence on the other side of the door. He crouched low in panic and then made an amazing leap onto the bed. He crouched again at the bottom of the bed with his ears and eyes peeking over the bedpost. As the door began to open Brutus scurried backwards until he bumped against Cyril's hip. A low growl sounded in his throat as he bared his claws and prepared to launch himself at the face of the intruder. Steeled with resolve, he cast one last, longing look over his shoulder at Cyril, and then turned to face his death.  
  
Thus it was that when Chris entered the bedchamber a small blur sprang towards his face. The dragon waved his hand and stopped the missile in mid-flight. Had the occasion not been so somber or the act so daring he would have laughed. But instead he spoke a simple word of magic and Brutus the cat morphed into his true form ... a sprite. Then he fell to the floor like a stone.  
  
The creature that rose from the floor with an indignant glare was, for there is no other word to describe him, beautiful. He was an Ether deva. And his name was not Brutus, but Simon. He had a shinning mass of dark curls that ended just above his shoulders. The hair framed an oval face and a pair of clear grey eyes that sparkled with an inner light. A slightly turned up nose and a generous, inviting mouth completed a face that members of several species, male and female alike, had fought over. His head reached only to the dragon's shoulder.  
  
As Simon glared up at Chris a few silken strands of hair fell across his face. He pushed them back with a firm hand. Despite the notion humans had that sprites were tiny fragile creatures with delicate wings, in truth they were just the opposite. Simon, though svelte, possessed a sturdy well-made form in perfect proportion to his height. And there was nothing at all delicate in his manner. A substantial pair of translucent wings unfurled from the sprite's back and with one quick motion he was eye to eye with the dragon.  
  
"All hail the great Prince Christosantantas of the house of Santantas," the sprite hissed. "Victorious in battle ... stout of heart ... Draoi Adept ... and his son's murderer!" He blinked out of sight as Chris reached for his neck and then reappeared behind the dragon. "Where is your cloak to cloak this deed? For I will tell all with great speed!"  
  
"STAY!" Chris said with authority, and the sprite was again frozen in place. "If you go to Ryan or Augustus and upset them needlessly, I will surely kill you. My son's fate, for the moment, rests not in my hands but in the hands of my niece." He walked over to the bed and looked down at Cyril. "And regardless of how the blade falls, he must be prepared for the ritual."  
  
Chris waved his hand in the sprite's direction, almost as an after-thought, and released him. "If you must flutter about, please do so clothed," the dragon admonished. He was gratified to see Simon summon for himself a grey, long-sleeved tunic that was belted at the waist, and black leggings.  
  
Freed from the motion spell, the sprite hovered near the bed. His look and manner again betrayed great longing. And Chris suddenly understood. "You were lovers," he said. "That's why you volunteered to help watch over him."  
  
"Yes," was the sprite's sad reply. "We were lovers and he was my good friend. But now he doesn't remember me or anything of our love." Simon sat on the edge of the bed and smoothed Cyril's hair. "Away love has crept ... but this I accept," he whispered. "I would give anything, even my life, to see him whole again."  
  
Chris, who had been studying Cyril, looked up sharply. He narrowed his eyes. "That can be arranged," he said.  
  
The sprite looked back at him in surprise. He raised his chin defiantly. "Are you so petty that you would despise me for choosing your son over you?"  
  
Chris barked a laugh. "Little gnat, if I had indeed wanted you there would not have been a choice to make." He looked again upon his son and a bit of sternness left his face. "Now leave, before you irritate me further."  
  
"B-but ... I thought ... Then why do you hate me so? I would dearly, dearly love to know!"  
  
"The rhyming," Chris said through gritted teeth, "I cannot abide the rhyming."  
  
Simon was hurt. "I rhyme no more or less than all the rest!" he groused. Then he blinked out of sight as Chris stepped toward him.  
  
The dragon closed his eyes and took several deep breaths, trying to regain the inner balance of energy he had achieved in his sanctum. A minute or two later he opened his eyes and leaned over the prone figure in the bed. "Cyril? ... Cyril?" he whispered in his ear. Then he pulled back the covers and gently shook his son's shoulder. "Wake up, hatchling."  
  
Cyril rolled over, all big-eyed and sleep-tossed, and yawned until his jaws cracked. He rubbed at this eyes with his fists and then fixed his father with an earnest stare. "Papa, I dreamed that Brutus the cat turned into a man and he had wings on his back."  
  
Chris helped his son up out of bed. "Did you, hatchling? That's a nice dream. Now, come along," he said with a smile as he led him into the water closet, "It's time to get you ready for the celebration."  
  
Cyril pulled his arm free. He jumped up and down and clapped his hands. "Year End's Eve! Year End's Eve! What did you get Ryan and me this year, father!"  
  
Chris couldn't stop his smile as he sprinkled both lemon grass and aloe bath salts into the tub and started the water. "You'll just have to wait until we return home to see," he teased. He beckoned the excited dragon over and helped him out of his clothes. He then removed his own tunic and shirt, kneeled down next to the tub, and bathed his son from his toes to his head. He washed and rinsed the long blond hair twice. At last he pulled the stopper and patiently listened to Cyril's wail of complaint as he watched the destruction of his bubble fortress.  
  
He wrapped his son in a large towel and led him back into the bed chamber, where he bade Cyril to lie down upon the bed. Then he massaged warm, fragrant oil into the young dragon's skin. And as he worked he realized that if he and his kin did not have the power to morph he would not be able to perform this service for his son. He silently thanked Danae for the ability.  
  
Cyril wanted to choose his own outfit, and pouted when his choice to dress like his father in the red and black of the House of Santantas was negated. Christos finally convinced him, with much tickling and the use of wooden hand-held puppets, that the white robe he wanted Cyril to wear made his blond hair shine like gold, just like the hair of an ancient knight with raised shield on the field of battle. Cyril puffed up at that and slipped the robe over his head himself.  
  
The mood in the bedchamber became somewhat somber when Chris removed the ritual athame from his belt and pulled the hood of his leather tunic down low over his face. There was something about these actions that made Cyril uneasy, though he didn't exactly know why. It tugged at his memory and he scrunched up his face in an effort to remember the significance of this particular knife in his father's hand. Now his sire had his arms raised towards the ceiling and he was speaking words that Cyril didn't understand, yet again he had the vague notion that he  _should_  understand them. The words made his skin feel funny ... like insects were crawling over his body. Then his father lowered the knife and pointed it at him. His body was hit with a blast of blue heat that made his toes tingle. He felt warm and fuzzy inside, like he felt at night in bed under thick blankets. This time when his father walked toward him with the knife, he was not afraid.

 


	11. Chapter 11

Glori sat on the lake bank with her arms wrapped around her legs and her chin on her bent knees. She was mesmerized by the colorful dots of light dancing across the water's shimmering surface. A butterfly floated before her eyes. She put out her hand and marveled at the fragile creature when it lighted upon her right index finger. She studied the beautiful patterns on its wings until it fluttered away on some business of its own.  
  
A gust of wind blew strands of her hair across her shoulders and against her cheek. The sensation caused a ripple of chills to move throughout her body. This skin, so very different from her own, responded to the most subtle touches ... a soft breeze, a silk under tunic, the moist caress of water, and the almost unbearable friction of skin against skin. "How can humans stand it?" She asked herself aloud. 

"They get use to it, and so will you," a baritone voice answered from behind her.  
  
Glori spun around and lurched to her feet. Ryan stood before her in ceremonial red and black leather. Her cousin had never before made her nervous, but this  _human_  Ryan made her heart beat fast and her knees weak. She didn't understand why, and she didn't like it one bit. She took a deep calming breath, but when she lifted her head to scold him for startling her, she found herself captivated by his deep green eyes. She took an unconscious step closer to him.  
  
Ryan smiled and licked his bottom lip. He moved forward and brushed the fingers of his right hand across her cheek. His thumb lingered beneath her mouth until he finally brought it up to caress the plump sweetness of her bottom lip. He noticed the quickness of her breath and moved even closer to her. "Cousin, you forgot my greeting kiss," he said, his own chest heaving. Then he leaned his head down and gave her a gentle, brief kiss.  
  
Remembering the promise to his uncle, Ryan did not press Glori. After the chaste kiss he pulled away and leaned back against a tree trunk. He watched as his cousin brought her fingers to her mouth in wonder, her large eyes full of conflicting emotions.  
  
Glori felt a not unpleasant 'itching' sensation and warmth inside her, particularly between her legs, that had been more pronounced when Ryan had stood close to her. And now that he had moved away, her body wanted him close again. Unable to stop herself, she walked slowly over to him with her head bowed and her hands clasp nervously in front of her. She looked up and fell into his eyes. She placed a trembling hand on his chest above his heart. When she touched him, a funnel of energy exploded inside her, and she felt that she and Ryan were connected through that energy as it flowed from her to him and from him to her until it was one source flowing through them both. She collapsed against him, embracing that energy. She couldn't seem to get close enough to him.  
  
Ryan held Glori close and found her mouth again with his. She wound her arms around his neck and moved her body against the hard molten heat between his legs. He moaned deep in his throat and moved his body in concert with hers while his right hand cupped her left breast. The sounds he made and the action of his body both frightened and thrilled Glori.  
  
"Ocht! Sure'n I knew yew couldna keep your word, yew black hearted spalpeen." Forge groused just behind them in his deep gravelly voice.  
  
The two dragons jumped apart from each other with a gasp; both breathing hard, both flushed with embarrassment. Stepping forward before the dwarf could make the situation worse, Pax spoke quietly to Glori. "Lady, your father sends for you. It is time to prepare for the ritual."  
  
Glori dipped her head at the elf and started to walk away. But before she could take a step a sudden noise drew the group's attention. They turned just in time to see Tobias materialize with a loud yell ... and then splash into the lake. 

*********************************  

Forge Ironcaster let out a loud guffaw as he watched Tobias flounder in the lake. He turned to the others and said, "Sure'n tha fur is gonna fly when yonder lad kens his power. Himself musta really takin' a likin to the young master to be so gentle-like wit' him and all."  
  
The others laughed at this and then laughed even louder when Tobias's curses reached them. Glori turned and hid her smile behind her hand. A blush graced her cheeks like a dusty rose.  
  
Forge shouted insults at Tobias about his swimming technique as the young man made slow progress towards the lake’s shore. Then he asked why the young draoi did not simply *magic* himself onto shore. Now, the elf and dwarf have hotly debated what happened next many a night over wine and ale. But the gist of it all is that Pax, as sure-footed as any of his elfin kin, somehow 'slipped' into Forge and the dwarf ended up in the lake.  
  
Tobias had just reached the shore with the waterlogged dwarf when Simon appeared in their midst, his wings now discreetly hidden. Ryan was immediately suspicious. His deep jade-green eyes flared with feral intensity as he fixed the sprite with a piercing stare. His eyes narrowed as he contemplated the deva's morphed state. "Why aren't you with Cyril?" he asked.  
  
"Tis near the time twixt dawn and dust. Your brother prepares, as well he must," the sprite replied, his startling grey eyes wide and guileless.  
  
"Is father ... is Cyril alone?"  
  
"Tobias, you're all wet!," the sprite teased, ignoring Ryan. Then he reached out a hand and squeezed water from Forge's beard. "Did you enjoy your bath, little father? I'm sure our noses will enjoy the result."  
  
Tobias and Forge, both clearly furious at having been so abruptly introduced to the cold lake, answered at the same time in the same tone: "I beg your pardon, but I don't think I've had the pleasure!"..."Ocht! Flap that tongue o' yours a wee bit more an' I'll pluck your wings off wit me own hands!"  
  
"Ah, but you *do* know me, Tobias. I've enjoyed great pleasure at your gentle hands. You always rubbed in just the right spot behind my left ear."  
  
"Do yew not ken the scamp, lad? Tis the self-same feline that came wit yew to tha manor."  
  
"What?!"  
  
"Aye. Only sure'n he stands here now as his mother has seen him from birth." Forge stuck a thick finger in his right ear in an attempt to dislodge some trapped water. "So Himself finally tired of tha charade, did he now?"  
  
The sprite laughed. "Yes. The Great Tyrant expressed his opinion as only  _he_  can."  
  
Tobias distracted himself by ringing water from the bottom of his sodden robe. Despite all that he had seen and learned in the past two days, his mind refused to connect the two images of this vibrant young man and the large green and grey tomcat. "I don't understand," he said softly to no one in particular.  
  
"Then please allow me to clarify it for you," Said answered. He and Arif pushed aside the tendrils of a willow tree and walked toward the small group. Everyone but Ryan turned to greet them. They were both dressed in ceremonial attire: white tunics with broad gold belts and hooded robes. "Simon is a sprite, an elemental or 'deva' of the ether domain. Get to know him well, Tobias. Like you, he can interact with all manner of species, both above and below. Draoi and ether elementals are unique in this..." he paused in his lecture when Forge issued forth a loud sneeze. And it was as if the Iman had suddenly become aware of their appearance with the dwarf's sneeze. Bemused, he asked: "Why are you and the dwarf drenched?"  
  
Tobias shivered and hugged his chest with his arms. A flush rose from his neck to his face.  
  
Simon laughed. "It seems The Great Tyrant is indiscriminate in expressing his opinions today."  
  
"I don't recall asking for yours!" Tobias snapped.  
  
"Peace, Tobias, peace. You really must learn to laugh more."   _Though you're jolly enough whenever The Great One touches you_ , Simon mused to himself.  
  
"Beggin' your honor's pardon," Forge said as he executed a clumsy bow in Said's direction, "but could yew be after usin' a wee bit 'o magic to dry me togs?" He tugged at his wet garments and shifted from foot to foot.  
  
"And don't be after forgettin' his beard!" Simon quipped. Then he wagged a cautionary finger at Forge as Pax held onto the sputtering dwarf.  
  
The Iman bit his bottom lip to stop his smile. "Tobias, I believe it is time to introduce you to your power. *You* are going to dry yourself and the dwarf."  
  
" _WHAT_  power?!" Tobias ran a hand back over his cropped hair. Water droplets flew from his fingers in all directions. "You speak as if I know what you mean! Well, I don't!" He turned away and immediately staggered back against Arif as Said removed the simple, temporary shield the dragon had placed around him earlier after he had passed out. To Tobias's eyes, the world was once again awash in colorful tendrils of energy. He tried to focus on what Said was saying, but the Iman's bright aura distracted him. And then, all at once everything came back into focus; only sharper than before.  
  
"That's it," the Iman said. "Now, concentrate on the heat source within you, create an image in your mind of yourself in a dry robe...and  _will_  it so." He nodded in satisfaction when he felt charged energy in the air around the young draoi.  
  
"I did it," Tobias said, smoothing his dry robe in awe.  
  
"Ge'us a hand then, there's a good laddy," Forge implored. And then, as steam rose from his body, "Ocht! Surra save me from novices! Yew donna hav' ta singe a body ta death! Easy, lad...easy." He heaved a deep sigh of contentment when his clothes were dry. "I thank ye."  
  
All this time Ryan had paced back and forth in quiet fury with a glare now and then back toward the manor. Glori had watched him with growing alarm. She grabbed his arm just as he grabbed Simon by the biceps.  
  
"Why did you leave Cyril alone?!" Ryan shouted.  
  
The sprite remained silent. Not even his body language betrayed his own torment and uncertainty over Cyril's fate.  
  
Ryan's face paled in fear.  
  
"Ryan, what is it? What's wrong?" Glori asked, her voice full of concern. The lone female in a pride of fearless male dragons, the young dragonette had not often seen the emotion displayed. To now see Ryan truly afraid unnerved her.  
  
"Cyril ..." he whispered. Then he took off running up the path with Glori right behind him. Simon sighed and then blinked out of sight.  
  
Tobias was confused. "Has something happened to Cyril?"  
  
Pax tugged at his arm. "Come along, young draoi. We may need you." And then he and the dwarf began dragging the human with them as they hurried up the path to the manor. None of them except Arif noticed that Said had turned towards the forest.  
  
"Iman?..."  
  
"Go with them, Arif," he said. And the other man nodded his head and started up the path after the others.  
  
Said pulled the hood of his robe low over his face and disappeared in a shimmer of light.  
  
*******************************************************

  
He waited in a clearing in the midst of a grove of oak trees. His hands were steepled in front of his chest. The hood of his red leather tunic was pulled down low over his face so that all you could see was the grim set of his mouth. It was not long before Said materialized about ten paces away from him, wearing a similar grim expression.  
  
"Let us understand each other, you and I," Chris said in a silky, lethal voice. "Tobias is mine... in all ways. And I expect to find him very much the same when I return."  
  
The Iman raised his head and lowered the hood of his robe. The white skull cap he wore stood out in stark contrast with his dark head. "Lord Santantas, are you afraid that the Baron's son will see your coupling for the abomination it is once you're no longer around to influence him?"  
  
Chris chuckled, the sound like daggers chipping at ice. "No. I'm afraid you'll try to beat him into compliance with that boring dogma of yours."  
  
"The Book of Ra'Ming states..."  
  
"Tell it to my brother!" The dragon lowered his own hood and fixed Said with a predatory stare. "As far as I'm concerned, you can take the Book of Ra'Ming and shove it up your tight ass."  
  
"You respect nothing," Said hissed.  
  
"I respect many things. But you, Iman, are not one of them."  
  
"Ra'Ming be praised for that," the Iman said through clenched teeth, "because I want nothing from you. And I will do *everything* in my power to rescue Tobias from your perversion!"  
  
Both draoi stepped forward. The air crackled where their aura fields collided, but neither one would back away. The friction fueled by their anger caused a ripple in the flow of energy. Abbot Rebadow felt it in Lanon. Magi of every rank and species on Galen paused in concern. All in the Deva kingdoms cringed in fear. And Augustus came out of his meditative Bliss with a start. The cleric was in the clearing between the two Draoi in an instant.  
  
"What are you doing?!" Augustus fumed. He looked from his brother to Said and back again in disgust. "We are nigh on the celebration of one of the most important days of the year, and you two are about to profane the Bright One's name in favor of your own egos!" The cleric grabbed Chris by the shoulders and shook him. "And what of Cyril, our  _son_? Would you sacrifice him to feed your ego? Have you forgotten that we need the Iman to successfully call the Four Quarters in the healing ritual?"  
  
Chris stared at Said throughout his brother's tirade. The menace in his sapphire eyes was a palpable thing in and of itself. Said planted his legs apart and folded his arms across his chest. He matched the dragon's intense stare with one of his own. Then without another word the two draoi simultaneously turned away from each other and disappeared, leaving an exasperated Augustus in their wake.  
  
**********************************************

  
They found Cyril just as the sun dipped below the horizon. He was standing on the lawn in front of the manor, arm and arm with his cousin Miguel. The two young dragons were staring at the last of the orange light receding from the evening sky. A breeze from the east end of the lake teased Cyril's hair. His white robe gleamed in the gloaming.  
  
Ryan raced over to his brother and pulled him into his arms with relief. Then in the next instant he reared back in fear. He swept his hands over Cyril's body and calmed down with the growing reassurance that everything was as it should be. That is, until he noticed the splotch of blood upon his brother's forehead. He tried to wipe it away but Cyril stopped him.  
  
"No Ryan, I have to keep it on! Father and me played a game and he made me a knight!"  
  
Ryan narrowed his eyes. "What are you talking about?"  
  
Cyril giggled and clapped his hands. "It was fun! Father gave me a bath and then he gave me this special robe to wear." He paused and looked down at his white robe with pleasure. "Isn't it nice?" he asked with a sigh.  
  
Ryan closed his eyes with a loud exhale and ran a hand through his hair. He eyed the smudge. He knew it for what it was, but he asked anyway. "How did you get that spot on your forehead, little brother?"  
  
Cyril's eyes got wide and solemn. "Papa cut my finger... see! He put my finger in his mouth and sucked some of the blood, so that he'd always have me with him, he said. He cut his finger too, but he wouldn't let me suck on it like he did mine. He said that a knight had to wear a little bit of the blood of the person who performed the sacred ceremony. Papa said it was an old ... an old..." Cyril furrowed his brow in confusion."  
  
"...ritual?"  
  
A wide smile lit the younger dragon's face. "That's it," he crowed, "a rit-ual!"  
  
Glori, standing close beside the two, touched Ryan's arm in comfort when he blanched at Cyril's words. But her sympathy turned to concern when she sensed his intent. "Ryan, you can't defy uncle Christos in this," she turned his face with the gentle touch of a finger. "You must have faith."  
  
"I do, Glori. It's just..."  
  
"Then take your place in the circle, cousin. And leave your brother to me."  
  
Glori took Cyril's arm and pulled him along with her into the center of a growing circle created by Brother Ray and the other clerics from the Monastery, devas, and her kin. As they passed through the growing throng she noticed that several elves dressed in ceremonial garb had arrived as well. Pax was speaking to them. Now and then he nodded his head towards Tobias, who stared at everyone around him in awe. Thus it was that he was the first to notice Augustus, Chris, and Said appear in the circle.  
  
Said moved quickly to the eastern part of the circle, the quarter of the element of air. Chris, after a quick glance at Cyril, moved to the southern part of the circle, the quarter of the element of fire. An elf near enough in appearance to Pax to be one of his close kin moved to the western part of the circle, the quarter of the element of water. And an ancient stump of a dwarf moved to the northern part of the circle, the quarter of the element of earth. Once the four draoi were in place, Augustus turned and beckoned to Tobias to join him, Cyril, and Glori in the center of the circle.  
  
At the height of the gloaming Said spread his arms and said: " Hail to the guardian of the Watch Tower in the East." (At these words, the deva king of the Sylphs appeared by his side holding a bright sword.) "I invoke the grace, wisdom, and healing power of the Bright God Surra and all of his aspects, Ra'Ming, Danae, and Adoni, on this Year's End Eve." And the deva king at his side moved the sword through the air with a smooth stroke.  
  
Then Christosantantas said: "Hail to the guardian of the Watch Tower in the South." (At these words, the deva king of the Salamanders appeared by his side holding a wand.) "I invoke the strength, judgment, and protection of the Bright God Surra and all of his aspects, Danae, Adoni, and Ra'Ming on this Year's End Eve." And the deva king at his side waved the wand through the air with a trail of flame.  
  
Then the elf said: "Hail to the guardian of the Watch Tower in the West." (At these words, the deva king of the Undines appeared by his side holding a silver cup.) "I invoke the empathy, intuition, and compassion of the Bright God Surra and all of his aspects, Adoni, Ra'Ming, and Danae on this Year's End Eve." And the deva king at his side poured water from the silver cup onto the ground.  
  
Then the dwarf said: "Hail to the guardian of the Watch Tower in the North." (At these words, the deva king of the Gnomes appeared by his side holding a bowl filled with rock salt.) "I invoke the patience, fertility, and re-birth of the Bright God Surra and all of his aspects, Ra'Ming, Danae, and Adoni on this Year's End Eve." And the deva king at his side sprinkled the rock salt onto the ground.  
  
Finally, after Augustus whispered something in Tobias's ear, the young draoi hesitantly said: "I invoke the power of the Bright God Surra as it flows through the Ether in all of his aspects, Ra'Ming, Danae, and Adoni, and into all elements and all beings on this Year's End Eve."  
  
The perimeter of the circle began to glow from the power of the god's presence. And that was the sign Glori had been waiting for. She placed her left hand over her cousin's sixth chakra, on top of the blood that Christos had placed there earlier, and prayed for Surra to heal him. The damage was deep, and she almost despaired because she did not feel the God's energy flow through her. Then another hand was placed over hers and she felt the sudden tingling flow of healing energy pulse through and around her.  
  
When it was done, Glori thanked Surra and turned to thank whomever it was who had helped her invoke the god's energy. She almost collapsed in shock when she saw a surprised Tobias look down at his hand, and then up at her. She was most surprised, however, by her father's complete lack of surprise.  
  
But no one was more surprised than Cyril, who looked as though he had just awaken from a dream. He stared wide-eyed when he realized that the young woman in front of him was his cousin Glori in her first morphed human form. Then he wondered why  _he_  was in human form, how he had gotten to his father's manor outside of Lanon, and most importantly, he wondered why Ryan was crying. He didn't get to ask any questions, however, because he was soon mobbed by half of the people on the lawn. His brother held him tightest, but his father held him longest.  
  
He pulled back to ask his father what had happened, but before he could speak, he found himself with an armful of sprite. Simon wrapped his legs around Cyril's waist and kissed every inch of his face before shoving his tongue down the delighted dragon's throat. Cyril cupped Simon's ass and would have magically transported them both to his bedchamber if his father had not abruptly separated them (but not before a lecherous laugh at Said's expense).  
  
Chris silently communicated with his kin and then looked at Simon. The sprite's face turned bright red with anger. But after Cyril gave him a pleading look he nodded once in agreement. And then the dragons one by one moved away to a prudent distance and morphed back into their true forms.  
  
Tobias realized too late that Chris intended to leave without saying goodbye. He gave a shout and raced over just as his lover took off into the night sky. Christosantantas executed a graceful turn and glided back over the lawn in a low pass. His intense sapphire eyes lingered on Tobias's angry face.  
  
"Don't you dare leave me here!" The Baron's son yelled. But even as the words left his mouth, the huge gold dragon was spiraling up and away.


	12. Chapter 12

Tobias trudged through the dense forest, careful to stay in the shadows as he moved among the trees and the autumn-dappled leaves. Every day his steps took him further and further away from the manor, away from Lannon, and away from his father's castle in Beechershire. His journey took him away from everything except for his thoughts, his self-doubts, and his dreams.  
  
It had been four months since the dragon left him at the manor with Said. It had been one month since he had fled the manor and the internal mirror of Said's dogma. It had been three weeks since he had chanced upon his wife's former Lady-in-Waiting and had sought comfort in her bed. And it had been a little more than a fortnight since the dreams of the dragon had began to torment him.  
  
Eventually, he had sneaked away from Arabella's bed. Driven by an unfathomable impulse, he had dressed in his leathers, packed a few meager supplies and had then entered the dark wildness of Drago Forest.    
  
Once there he had quickly settled into a routine. After traveling for several hours he would pause and drink from the boar-skin flask at his hip and eat chucks of stale bread and cheese, tasting none of it. At night, when exhaustion forced him, he would make a nest among the tree roots, huddled in his hunting leathers and wool cloak against the lengthening chill of the night.    
  
If, and only if, the night's chill bite penetrated too deeply, he would cast a 'warmth' spell or start a small fire with magic, which he could quickly quell. He was, however, very reluctant to use any of the magic Said had taught him. To do so always reminded him of what he was; which lead him back to the dragon. Said had all but convinced him that his relationship with the dragon was wrong ... that what he felt for the dragon was wrong ... that Christosantantas had used him for his own pleasure ... that the dragon was incapable of truly loving a human, because it would be against his nature to do so.    
  
But the dreams ... Sweet Surra ... the dreams said something else entirely. Now that he had experienced everything those wicked sapphire eyes had promised months ago in dreams during his time at the Abbey, the new dreams licked his flesh with sensations so real they nearly drove him to madness. Dreams of intense pleasure; followed by such intense dread.    
  
After he had admitted his weakness for the dragon to Said, and his inability to cease thinking about him, the Iman had cast a spell upon him that he promised would help strengthen Tobias’s resolve. What he did not say was that the spell would cause intense pain whenever Tobias thought about the dragon. And though he was fairly successful at keeping thoughts of Chris at bay while he was awake, Tobias could not control his dreams.  
  
The first gray light of dawn found him doubled over with pain. In order to stop the pain, he had to repeat  _“Wrong to do such things with another man ... abomination to do such things with an animal”_  over and over to himself. Once the pain eased he would fall back against his blankets in blessed relief. After he stopped shaking he would rise and relieve himself, eat a bit of food, and continue on his way.  
  
The devas, sensing his angst as well as his power, avoided his path. Some of the bolder ones, however, watched his progress from the tree limbs or played among the flames on those rare occasions when he started a fire.   
  
He had traveled thus for five days.  
  
On the sixth day a redheaded sprite sat munching an apple in the shade of a tree. Now and then he glanced down a narrow trail that lead back into the dense forest. Suddenly he sprang to his feet as he spied someone treading down the path. As he watched, the young draoi's shielded form shimmered in and out of focus as he absently pushed aside small branches. Haunted eyes darted to and fro from his haggard face as if sensing another presence.    
  
Carefully avoiding the seeking eyes, the Sprite lingered long enough to confirm the draoi's identity and then vanished like smoke on the breeze.  
  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
  
"Git o’way wit ya, yeh daft Faerie!" Forge Ironcaster threw a mug of ale at Simon, and would have hurled the pitcher as well if Pax had not wrestled it from his hands.    
  
"I am  _not_  a Faerie, white beard!” I am a sprite! I do not glow! You take it back, or I will not share that which I know!"  
  
"Ocht! I've told ya nah ta riddle!" The dwarf said in a threatening voice, his thickening accent a testament to his rage. "After yew let tha young laird give ye the slip, I've no mind ta hear what yew've to say. Just ye wait 'til Himself gets wind o' this. Sure'n he'll pluck off yer wings!"  
  
Pax pushed the irate dwarf back into his chair by the fire and turned to face the equally furious spite. "Simon, have you news of Tobias?" he asked.  
  
The sprite shot one last glare at the dwarf before turning to face Pax. "One of my kin just informed me that a draoi fitting Tobias's description is making his way through Drago Forest. His progress is steady and he appears to be heading towards the feet of the Caurus Peaks."   
  
Forge, who had just raised a new mug to his lips, sprayed them both with ale. "The Caurus Peaks is it?" He wiped his mouth and looked at Pax. "Do ya think the lad kens where his feet are leading him?"  
  
Pax turned to the West as if listening to something ... and did not answer.  
  
  
* * * * * * * * * *  
  
Tobias stared into the small fire he had reluctantly cast with magic. He wrapped his arms around his legs and rested his chin upon his knees with a sigh. The draoi was aware that every time he used magic it increased his risk of discovery, but the evening chill had settled around him like a shroud.  
  
A fire deva peeked out at him from between two licks of flame and was promptly throttled from behind by two of his peers. Tobias smiled. So intent was he in watching the salamanders at play among the flames that he failed to sense the sudden bright light behind him. Thus it was that he nearly fell forward into the fire when a soft voice spoke close to his left ear.    
  
"Have you made peace with yourself, Tobias?" Pax stepped into the meager light cast by the magical fire. The dwarf and sprite were close upon his heels.  
  
Tobias sprang to his feet and quickly backed away from the trio.   
  
Forge stomped forward and planted his sturdy legs apart in front of the Baron's son. "Do ye still not ken who it is yew've given yerself too? Yer as daft as this rascal sprite if ye think Himself won't be after lookin' for yeh."  
  
Tobias looked at the ground and rubbed his hands against his thighs. "I was offered the opportunity to decide...to make a choice. He'll have to respect the path I've chosen."  
  
"Is it your choice, your path, Tobias ... or the Iman's? " Pax asked gently.  
  
Tobias began to pace. "You don't understand," he said, his voice pleading, "I lose myself around him; I can't breathe, I can't think ... all I see is him. He's the wine in the old cup that once drove me to madness. He is death to me!"  
  
Hearing this, the others were quiet and looked everywhere but at each other. Finally Pax said, "But you are life to him," he paused and took a step closer. "Tobias, you know little of dragons so--"  
  
"The Iman told me th--"  
  
"No!" The elf closed his eyes. "Listen to me young draoi. First you were in his mind, then his heart ... and now you are in his blood," he fixed the young man with a keen stare, "and he is in yours. Blood calls to blood, Tobias, just as power calls to power."  
  
Tobias raised his chin in defiance. "H-he tricked me." He ran a shaky hand along his cropped red hair and licked his dry lips. "I won't go back! I want nothing more to do with the beast!"  
  
Forge snorted. "Beast, is it? Tricked yew did he? Then it was Himself alone makin' all tha' noise tha' shook the rafters in his bedchamber, was it?"  
  
Tobias had the grace to blush.  
  
Simon clicked his tongue and sniffed at the dwarf. "Even if you  _do_  look rather like a boulder, must you be so crude and crushing with your words?" The sprite moved forward a pace and raised his hands in a gesture indicating that he meant no harm. "Tobias, I, and no one better, understand very well your angst and woe, but further we cannot let you go."   
  
Forge spat on the ground, then grabbed the sprite and began shaking him. "Ocht! I warned ye na' ta spout na mor 'o them riddles!"  
  
Simon kicked Forge hard on the shin. The dwarf let go and hopped around on one foot, swearing at the mother of every sprite ever conceived. Simon unfurled his wings and fluttered around the dwarf, poking him in the eye and pulling at his beard. Pax moved between the two, admonishing both for their childish behavior. By the time both combatants had settled into a hostile yet quiet truce, Tobias had disappeared into the night.  
  
  
* * * * * * * * * * *  
  
High in the ancient mountain range known as the Caurus Peaks, Christosantantas was deep in meditation within his private sanctum. His ridged brow was creased in worry.   _The dreams alone may not be enough_ , he thought.   _And when next the Iman sees my face, it may well be the last thing he sees in this life._  
  
The dragon sighed and stretched his powerful limbs. He left his altar room and made his way down to the outer ring of his lair; which was, in all honestly, a well-fortified Keep. He wasn't surprised to find Augustus waiting near the entrance.  
  
"Chris, what will you do when you find him?"  
  
"He has bedded someone else, Augustus. What do you  _think_  I'm going to do?"  
  
The cleric's eyes opened wide in alarm and then annoyance. "Must you overreact to everything? You should have brought him here with you, like he  _begged_  you to do!" And when he saw that his brother was not swayed by this he said, "Chris ... he doesn't understand our ways. Give him time."  
  
Chris raised an eyebrow. "After the little secret you whispered in my ear I think that it's well past time for him to understand."   
  
Frustrated, Augustus snapped. "If the High Tribunal discovers that you've left before a decision has been reached they'll--"  
  
" _FUCK_ , the Tribunal!" And then Christosantantas, draconian prince and the twenty-fifth Lord of the House and line of Santantas, moved past his brother and leaped into the night. His powerful wings caught a strong current, and moonlight reflected off the tip of a gold wing as he banked to the East.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **NOTE:** Chapter 13 is Rated NC-17 for rape, sex, and graphic VIOLENCE, and it may push a few buttons. Consider yourself warned! I was rather disappointed in how the Beecher/Keller relationship ended and was unreasonably angry at Tobias in the last season of _Oz_ (as several people pointed out after reading this chapter when first posted to my LJ). I've finally gotten over my Tobias Beecher angst, so the next installment will see him come into his own, so to speak. :)
> 
> Thanks to everyone who has expressed a continued interest in this story. Two more chapters should complete it. Some of you may already know where I’m headed with it all, but for those of you who don’t … enjoy the ride!

Kareem Said walked the cobbled path in his enclosed garden as he often did after evening prayer. His house and property, surrounded by a twelve-foot stone wall, and magical shields, sat to the right of a high-domed Mosque with arched windows. Head down and hands clasped behind his lower back, he contemplated neither the fragrance of witch hazel plants or the teachings of Ra’Ming, but rather the wayward nature of one Tobias of Beechershire.

The young draoi had disappeared from the dragon’s manor five weeks ago, and since that time no attempt to find him, either through magical or mundane means, had yielded any results. After three weeks with no word of the young man, Said and Arif had left the dragon’s manor with a great sense of relief—and worry.   
  
The Iman stooped to reposition a garden gnome and then drew his winter cloak tighter about his shoulders with a sigh. His admonishment of Tobias had been harsh, but necessary. The Baron’s son had been completely corrupted by the perverse seduction of the dragon. He had honestly thought himself in love with the beast … a male beast at that. Abomination twice and twice damned! Said had not known just how deeply enthralled Tobias was until after he had placed the cantrip1 on him; which induced intense pain whenever Tobias thought about Christosantantas. Unfortunately, the conscious mind sleeps at night and the unconscious is the doorway to dreams. Each night after he cast the cantrip spell the household had been roused by screams. They had rushed to Tobias’s room to find him writhing on his bed in pain and drenched in sweat. One morning they had awakened to find the young draoi gone.   
  
Said looked up at the night sky just as the first star appeared. He mentally shifted thoughts of Tobias into a compartment and allowed his mind to meditate upon the crisp, bright evening unfolding before him. With practiced ease he began a series of slow, measured breaths, grounding himself to the solid land beneath his feet and extending his energy upward. He soon felt the exhilarating sensation of merging with higher energy, of becoming one with Ra’Ming.

Time paused and he lingered in the God’s embrace for an eternity, but surely it was no longer than the space between one heartbeat and the next, and certainly not as long as he would have liked. Something urgent tugged at his shields. With another breath his heart pumped and he once again became aware of his surroundings and the night air touching his skin. He tried to grasp the sense of urgently that had interrupted his state of bliss, but it had evaporated on the night mist. Suddenly consumed with thoughts of hot tea and a good book in front of his warm hearth, Said folded his hands behind his lower back and strolled briskly up the path towards home.   
  
He was twenty feet from his garden gate when the back door of his house exploded open and his steward rushed out to greet him. The tassel on his dark red fez trailed behind the small, elderly man in his haste. His light grey sherwani and white leggings were nearly a blur. Said paused in concern at the frantic approach of the usually stoic man. He reached out and caught the man by the arms as his forward momentum caused him to stumble.  
  
“Jafeel, calm yourself. What has happened?”  
  
“Iman!" the man gasped, "you have visitors. Three members of the Draoi Council and—and two dragons!”   
  
“Dragons? But that’s impossible. I would have sensed …”  
  
“I saw them morph into human form with my own eyes, Iman! Two huge dragons, one black and one gold.”  
  
Said patted the man’s shoulder and moved past him on up the path and into the house. He entered with confident steps, taking comfort from the familiar colorful patterns in the mosaic tile beneath his feet and on the walls of his house. Even this close to his fellow draoi he couldn’t sense them, but he expected to find them in his study. That they had come to his home cloaked signaled serious business. Two dragons—particularly a gold one—could only mean ... Tobias.  
  
************************************  
  
They turned as Said entered the study and pushed their hoods back from their heads.    
  
“Welcome, brethren,” the Iman said with a bow. “I am honor—“ he stuttered in surprise when the last draoi pushed back his hood. There stood Augustus instead of Christosantantas, as Said had fully expected.  
  
“Lord Augustus,” said the Iman, “I expected your brother.” A dry chuckle drew Said’s attention to the second dragon, whose dark-skinned human form was large and imposing.  
  
"As well you should,” the dragon said. His eyes held wicked promise.  
  
“Lord Adebesi,” Said greeted the second dragon. “It’s a pleasure, as always,” said he, his words dripping with sarcasm.  
  
“Iman Said,” Augustus interceded smoothly, “Adebesi is an arbiter of dragon law. My family has a matter pending before the High Tribunal that has been delayed because my brother is away attending to personal business which,” he paused and then continued a bit apologetically with a sweep of his right hand, “you may be responsible for.”  
  
Said planted his feet apart and folded his arms across his chest. “I accept no responsibility for your brother’s behavior,” he said to the cleric with a stubborn lift of his chin.  
  
“Dragon law is harsh, Iman. My brother, head of the Santantas family, has failed to respond to an official summons issued by the High Tribunal. The penalty for ignoring such a summons is death.”  
  
“And what has that to do with me?”  
  
Adebesi stepped forward. “Everything, if your interference in dragon affairs has caused Prince Santantas to ignore the law he is bound to by blood and honor.”   
  
Said turned his head to the other three draoi. “And what is the interest of the Draoi Council?”  
  
The council members, two men and an elf, looked at each other. The elf stepped forward. “Dragon law is harsh. My heart tells me that Christosantantas is about dark business this night. If you have, as has been suggested, interfered in dragon affairs, whatever claim he brings against you may hold merit. We are here to determine whether the Council can ... or should ... intervene on your behalf.”  
  
“And why would I need the Council’s intervention?”    
  
Adebesi laughed, the sound cruel and mocking. “Pride heralds a fall, Iman.” He walked over to the bookcases lining the walls and scanned the shelves. After a couple of minutes he pulled out a large tome. He grunted with satisfaction and handed the tome to Said. “Will you please read the title of the book I’ve just handed you?”  
  
“It is titled  _Carmen Dragonus_.”  
  
“The book is yours, then?” At a nod from the Iman he asked, “And have you read it?”  
  
“Yes,” said the Iman with an irritated sigh. “You know it is required reading for all apprentice draoi.”  
  
“And what of your own draoi apprentice?” Adebesi asked slyly. “Was he not required to read it as well?”  
  
“I felt it would have encouraged his abhorrent behavior,” Said replied grimly.  
  
Augustus looked at him, puzzled. “But you knew Tobias had bonded with my brother. How could you have thought to discourage his behavior?”   
  
“Tobias believed your brother's purpose was to   _enamor_  him rather than enthrall. It is written in the book of Ra'Ming that copulation between two men,” he looked at Adebesi, “or a man and a  _beast_ , is anathema. I merely showed him the error of his ways.”  
  
One of the human draoi asked, “Did you, perhaps, enhance your words with a spell?”   
  
“I did.”  
  
“And did Christosantantas warn you not to interfere?”  
  
“He did.”  
  
Adebesi took a menacing step forward. “Despite the warning,” he turned to the others” which I’m sure Christos made exceedingly clear,” he turned back to Said, “and despite having read  _Carmen Dragonus_ , you still came between a dragon and his mate?”  
  
“It’s an abomination!” the Iman replied between gritted teeth.  
  
Adebesi turned to Augustus. “I’m satisfied. I will inform the High Tribunal that your brother’s absence is justified. He has two days to deal with this one and his wayward mate.”  
  
“More than I need.” They all jumped at the sound of the cold voice coming from the shadowed doorway. Chris stepped into the room, dressed in supple red and black leathers. A heavy sack dangled from a belt loop at his hip. Malice radiated from him in waves as he stalked into the room with deadly grace. His hands were stained with blood.    
  
He squeezed his hands into fists by his side, barely holding on to his control. “I warned you not to meddle, Iman, but you didn’t listen.” His eyes were chips of blue ice, feral and focused … a predator’s stare.  
  
“Are you afraid your pet might turn to his own kind without your constant influence?”   
  
“He has already turned to his own kind; a woman. He ran away from the manor and straight into her arms.” Chris raised his left hand to his mouth and licked the blood from his fingers. “Dragons have killed their mates with far less provocation, Iman. As you are well aware, having read  _Carmen Dragonus_.”  
  
Said flinched. “You killed him?” Across the room, Augustus inhaled a sharp breath.  
  
Chris spared a glance at his brother before returning his gaze to Said. His tongue flicked out and caught the last hint of blood from the palm of his hand. “No. But tonight he’ll have either my cock or my dagger in his throat. Tobias isn’t blameless in this, and neither are you.”  
  
Before Said could react the dragon hit him with a bolt of magic, slamming him against the wall next to the fireplace. The Iman crumbled to the floor unconscious.  
  
“Is the Draoi Council satisfied?  
  
“We are,” the elf replied. “What justice do you seek, Christosantantas?”  
  
Chris growled. “I want his blood,” he looked at the council members, “ _and_  his life!”  
  
“Chris!”  
  
“Keep out of this, Augustus,” Chris warned. His nostrils flared at the sudden flood of pheromones in the small room. He stood over the prone figure, his mouth twisted in a cruel smile. “But I’ll be satisfied with giving him a taste of forbidden fruit instead. Call it poetic justice. He will live … though he may wish for death.”  
  
The tang of pheromones increased. Chris looked over his shoulder at the source. “Adebesi, are you interested in administering some poetic justice?”  
  
The dragon’s eyes gleamed with sadistic glee, “What manner of  _beast_  would I be to refuse such a request?” He hefted Said’s limp form from the floor as if he weighed nothing and tossed him onto a large desk against the wall opposite the fireplace. He ripped away the Iman’s clothing and arranged his body so that his hips were positioned over the edge of the desk.    
  
Adebesi released his throbbing cock and pulled back the foreskin. A Copious amount of fluid leaked from the tip. He caressed Said’s buttocks with his hands and wedged his cock in the cleft between them, sliding it back and forth, slicking the way with his pre-cum. He pulled apart the buttocks with a groan of lust and took aim. Chris removed his spell from Said just as Adebesi thrust his hips forward.    
  
The Draoi Council members shimmered from the room with the Iman’s scream of agony echoing in their ears.  
  
**************************************

  
Tobias ran blindly through trees in his haste to get as far away from the trio as possible. Thin branches whipped his face as he stumbled over roots and brambles. After many frantic heartbeats the sound of their voices faded into the night rhythms and noises of the forest around him. A desperate crash through a clump of tightly knitted bushes brought him to a narrow path. On and on he ran until a sharp pain in his right side forced him to stop. He leaned down and put his hands on his knees. Rocking to and fro, he sucked in deep draughts of air. He could almost taste the heavy smell of the damp leaves beneath his feet.   
  
As the sweat cooled on his body it seemed as if something other than the crisp night air seeped into his pores. Tobias looked up and was surprised to find the lowest foot of the Caras Peaks looming high above him. He frowned and rubbed the stubble on his chin. The mountain range had appeared far more distant before Simon, Forge, and Pax had surprised him at his small camp. There was something … an important fact about this group of mountains that his memory seemed to slip around.    
  
His senses tingled and his body was alert and taunt … anticipating danger. He pulled his dagger as the ominous feeling of dread increased. He had participated in enough hunts to realize that he was now being hunted. And when pain began to stab his gut he was left in no doubt as to whom or what followed his scent. His body drooped in resignation.    
  
“I know you’re there,” he whispered into the darkness. “I’m tired and I hurt. Let’s end this game, shall we?” He covered his eyes as the night exploded with light.  
  
The dragon stood about twenty-feet ahead on the path, vibrating with anger. The hood of his leather jerkin was pulled low over his face and his arms were folded in his sleeves. A heavy leather bag dangled from a loop on his belt. When the dragon began to move Tobias brought his dagger down with cat-like grace into a fighter’s crouch.  
  
“That’s far enough!” he adjusted his crouch to match the dragon’s movements. “Leave me in peace, I want nothing more to do with you. You are death to me!” He suddenly doubled over in pain as his body betrayed the lie in his words.  
  
“I’m sorry, Sanmiko, but it won’t be that easy.” In a flash Chris was upon him. The side of Tobias’s face exploded with pain from a wicked backhand. Before his body could hit the ground he was backhanded along the other side of his face. His body flew across the path from the force of the blow. When he staggered to his feet a hard kick caught him in the chest. Gasping for breath, he collapsed to the ground. The pain from the cantrip warred with the pain in his chest.  
  
Chris stood over his mate, eyes closed as he savored the man’s agony. “Up on your knees, Tobias.”  
  
“Go to hell!” Tobias managed between gasps of pain. He sent a bolt of magic at the dragon, and the dragon laughed.  
  
Chris squatted over the fallen man’s chest and wrapped a hand around his throat. He pulled his face close, ignoring the wheezing breaths. “If I were human, you would have done me serious harm. But as it happens,” he hurled Tobias through the air by his neck and listened to the sound of flesh striking wood in the distance, “I am not.”  
  
He found Tobias lying in a clump of bushes by a large tree, curled into a fetal position against his pain. His right shoulder hung at a funny angle. The dragon yanked Tobias’s right arm until he heard the shoulder bone pop back into place. He squatted again and looked into the young man’s eyes. Stirred by their bond, he felt his anger start to recede. He placed his right hand over Tobias’s solar plexus and with brief word of magic he removed Said’s cantrip.  
  
Tobias collapsed with relief. His last conscious thought was of being gathered into the dragon’s arms and the distinctive crawl of magic along his skin.   
  
************************************  
  
A noise roused Tobias. He cracked an eye to take in his surroundings and found that he was in a small, stone hunters cottage. He was under heavy quilts in a comfortable bed and a fire cast warmth into the room. Chris sat slumped in a large chair by the fireplace, one leg dangling over the right arm. He wore a heavy red robe and nothing else. Tobias wore nothing at all.   
  
Tobias tried to speak, but only a rasping wheeze passed his swollen throat. Chris looked over at the sound and poured something from a kettle hanging over the fire into a cup and brought it to the bed. The hot liquid had a pungent medicinal smell to it, but Tobias drank it all and immediately felt the swelling in his throat lessen.  
  
“Chris, I—“   
  
“Shhh.” The dragon dipped a cloth into the hot brew and bathed Tobias’s face and chest. The bruising began to fade and then vanished altogether. The young man sighed his pleasure and relief.    
  
Chris stood by the bed and opened his robe. He ran a lazy hand over his chest, down his stomach, and to his cock. He gathered a bit of pre-cum onto his fingertip and rubbed it against Tobias’s mouth. He repeated the gesture until Tobias opened his mouth and sucked on his finger. He ran a hand along the other man’s cropped hair and gently raised Tobias’s head until his cock was level with Tobias’s mouth. He shivered with lust as the talented mouth began to suckle the head of his cock. He placed both hands firmly on the side of Tobias’s head and moved in and out of his mouth, grunting with pleasure as the other man’s tongue swerved around the sensitive head on outward strokes. At last he held himself still as his orgasm hit and semen burst from the tip of his cock. His body shook as wave after wave of intense sensation engulfed him.   
  
He pulled away and fell on top of Tobias, devouring everything in his path. Leaving the young man’s lips bruised from searing kisses and his nipples sore from painful bites. He suckled his cock until the young man screamed for release, and then he buried his own cock balls deep in his lover’s ass … pounding away at him, raking his foreskin again and again along the sweet spot deep inside. Tobias bucked on the bed like a man possessed until he came, hard … screaming Chris’s name … screaming his pleasure … screaming his apology … screaming his regret … begging for forgiveness. And Chris gave it in smoothing strokes and caresses, in gentle kisses and soft words, and with fervent promises as he wiped away the tears. At long last they fell asleep with limbs entwined.  
  
Tobias eased out of sleep and stretched, reaching for his mate; for he finally realized that they were mated in every sense. He frowned when his hands met cool sheets instead of his warm lover. He sat up and rubbed his eyes, breaking into a huge grin when he saw Chris seated, fully dressed, in the chair by the fire. “Good morning,” said he, his voice silky and sleep kissed.  
  
“Good afternoon, Sanmiko,” Chris corrected, and then he grinned as well.    
  
“Why are you dressed? Come back to bed.”  
  
“I’m sorry, Tobias, but I can’t. I must return home.”  
  
Tobias’s smile faded and his chin lifted. “Take me with you.”  
  
“No.”  
  
“Will you never learn?" Tobias frowned and huffed in exasperation. "Look what mischief I got into last time!”  
  
Chris looked at him, once again the predator. “It is  _you_  who must learn, Sanmiko, or next time you may not find me as forgiving.”  
  
Tobias was about to retort—had the biting remark upon his tongue—but he swallowed whatever he was about to say as he studied the look on Chris’s face … the look in his eyes. Then he felt it, something poignant and deadly between them … something too serious to ignore.    
  
Chris nodded once, satisfied. “Finally, you begin to comprehend. Good." He leaned down and picked something up from the floor. "I’ve brought along a couple of things to help you on your path to learning.” He tossed a heavy tome upon the bed.  
  
Tobias picked it up and read “ _Carmen Dragonus_ ” and translated “ _The Song of Dragons_? What is this?”   
  
“Something you should have read four months ago. After you’ve finished reading it, come to me. You’ll know how to find me.” He walked over to the bed and gave the young man a long, deep kiss.    
  
Tobias hugged the book against his chest and leaned back against the pillows when the dragon released his mouth. He looked up when Chris paused at the door. “This cottage belongs to me. You should be safe and comfortable here. The hunting is good and the lauder is full.”  
  
“Chris, what is the other thing? The other thing you brought to help me?”  
  
The dragon lifted the heavy leather bag he had carried on his belt from a spot by the door and reached inside. He pulled something heavy and dark out and tossed it onto the bed. It bounced into Tobias’s lap with a wet plop. Tobias stared down into Arabella’s dead eyes for one paralyzed moment, and then he knocked the head away in shock.    
  
Chris gently closed the door against Tobias’s horrified scream. With a look of grim satisfaction upon his face, he shimmered out of sight.


End file.
